Brainworm Repository
by Lord Mendasuit
Summary: You know that expression of an 'earworm' song that just keeps repeating in your head? Well, this is the same for me, except with story ideas that I just can't devote enough time to. Free for pickup whenever you like.
1. Dragonflight

I wrote this just to get them out of my skull. Mostly oneshots or incomplete stories that I just want out of my mind.

* * *

 **Dragonflight  
**

* * *

Summary: Taylor Hebert triggered. She did not get a Master Ability. Instead, she got the Multitasking ability of her power cranked up to 11. Dragon happened to be in Brockton Bay for Armsmaster-related reasons at the time...

* * *

Fucking Thinkers.

Emily Piggot knew what they did. They received that rating because they had powers based mostly on information gathering, usually with a specific focus or way of obtaining said information. There was, however, another, important, nay, vital, part of that classification.

Thinkers could process information in ways that the human brain normally just couldn't.

She was thinking of Thinkers because that was the latest Ward she'd gotten, as a direct result of gang activity in Brockton Bay resulting in nearly fatal injuries for an older man, his wife and his young child, and criminally overworked and inefficient health workers failing to respond in time to save the parents. It said something about how much that last little bit had rankled young little Taylor Hebert, that her parents had died due to inefficiency, that she had not triggered when the remnants of the March shot them, and instead had triggered in the hospital.

Needless to say, the entire thing was a mess.

Fortunately, PRT operatives were always checking the hospitals - it wasn't uncommon for new triggers to wind up there for one reason or another - and had found her displaying behavior typically associated with newly triggered Thinkers or Tinkers. Namely, she'd gone batshit about her focus.

Planning and Organization, the preliminary report had said. Most would see it as a 'lame' power. Emily Piggot, a known bigot who wore her dislike of parahumans on her sleeve, would tell whoever called that power lame to shove an entire truckful of dildos up their ass because there was a well known parahuman in Boston who seemingly only had the power to organize things and was well known as a fucker you do NOT want to fuck with. Not very many people survived being Accord's enemy for very long.

Power Testing, then, made things a bit clearer and somewhat more worrying.

Because usually, Thinkers tended to rate low unless they had precognitive powers. And Emily Piggot had just had a Thinker 11 trigger in Brockton Bay, who could not see the future. That meant that whatever she did do, she did it so unbelievably well that she was thought to be on a level with Accord.

And it was simple.

Taylor Hebert could multitask.

That sounded like it wasn't much. In fact, on the official record, she had a Thinker 3 rating because of it, and no further notes were made. On the unofficial report that only certain eyes had access to, Piggot saw that power testing said that the girl had the ability to multitask with no upper limit. They knew this, because they had hooked her up to a computer simulator that had her control twenty three point nine million individuals, and they stopped there because the computer ran out of power to process more human-like individuals, simplified as they were. Each and every single one of them could perform an individual task, and from what they could tell, it had not strained Hebert's mind at all, even as they increased the complexity of the entities she controlled and the tasks they asked of her to perform with them.

Piggot would've loved to have her manning the console and taking care of the organizing and administrating of the Brockton Bay HQ, but unfortunately, she didn't get he nice toys, because the girl had not only refused the guards...

Of all fucking things that could've happened, the girl was picked up by Dragon, and naturally, not minutes afterward, Piggot had to endure the chewing out of a lifetime over losing a Thinker 11 to the Guild.

* * *

Taylor squirmed a bit in her seat. "I'm sorry," she said, "It's just..."

Dragon's suit made a very obvious nod. "No, you don't need to apologize, I understand, Brockton Bay is your hometown, and you want to see your friends again. I have no problem with you being based off of Brockton Bay. Adjustments can be made," she explained. "And as I said, I will not force you to be part of a team you do not wish to belong to. However, as soon as I learned of your powers..."

"I thought it wasn't that impressive. I mean, the PRT gave me a Thinker 3 rating," Taylor said, frowning a bit.

"It is very impressive," Dragon said. "I will reveal a small secret to you, Taylor Hebert - I am not physically piloting this suit," she explained. "It is instead being controlled remotely."

Taylor's eyes widened visibly. "That's... that's amazing, you mean you're all the way in Canada right now?"

Nodding, Dragon spoke, her tone soft and warm despite the fact that she was nothing but cold machinery. "That is correct," she said. "I did not come here for the purpose of recruiting you to the Guild, Taylor Hebert, I came here to solicit your assistance in controlling multiple suits at once, for use in Endbringer and S-Class Threat fights. As payment, I will, in turn, assist you with your operations in Brockton Bay."

"I..." Taylor swallowed. "What do you need me to do?"

* * *

Brockton Bay was host to a whole lotta capes, and three major gangs that were on a tentative peace brought only by the threat of mutual assured destruction. And also Skidmark didn't go against the other two major gangs because he knew the merchants'd be crushed.

A new cape running around wasn't that big of a deal, or even news sometimes, when there was a big fight that caused a trigger, nobody remembered the scrub who triggered.

To Emily Piggot, who groused about her unfortunate surname as her weight grew, it very much was big, big news and very much a huge deal. She'd already been grilled by Costa-Brown about how important this entire fucking thing was. The only reason they'd gotten the girl back after Dragon took her to Canada for two years was because the girl missed her home city.

So they were to make damn fucking sure she saw the city as a home and felt welcome in it, that meant pulling out all the stops if necessary. Especially considering that while it was kept secret to most, Piggot had just enough clearance to be told exactly how Dragon had changed from only using one single suit at any given time to forming her own sub-team within the guild... entirely out of her own remote-controlled suits.

Taylor Hebert had the power to multitask with no upper limit. Piloting one of Dragon's suits required Dragon's full attention. Taylor Hebert was the one piloting the rest, apparently hooked up to a remote controller. Not to mention she was also the reason why Dragon had a whole lot of suits now instead of just a bunch - she had apparently also taken care of manufacturing them, apparently through careful and creative application of loads of Tinkertech bullshit that allowed her to essentially remote control an entire factory mass producing Dragon's technology.

This made Dragon into literally the only Tinker in the entire planet that could mass produce her tech, albeit by cheating with another power as a middleman. Naturally, this got everyone to go from "She's fucking bullshit's what she is" to "Okay, seriously, what the fuck".

Fucking Tinkers. Paired up with Fucking Thinkers.

That girl was responsible for a decrease of around 78% in Parahuman casualties in Endbringer Attacks and of around 96% in Civilian casualties in Endbringer Attacks, as well as pretty much the elimination of no less than four S ranked monstrosities that were running around in Canada.

It didn't shock Piggot that asshole politicians who didn't want Dragon's massive firepower running around their country were directly to blame for the Slaughterhouse Nine still roaming the USA.

And that girl was now going to be a Ward in Brockton Bay.

The PR team had already gone over the reveal process.

The girl already had her own name. She would go by Laplace, apparently some sort of math joke or something along those lines. Her costume had been a bit of a point of contention. Apparently, much like Dragon, the girl was a hermit. By choice, not the byproduct of being agoraphobic, from what she had said and displayed, as she had proven she wasn't scared of the great outdoors by going to a park and getting icecream with Miss Militia.

Taylor apparently thought the idea of a costume completely ridiculous. She pointed out that she'd be either behind the console or piloting one of her mother's suits remotely, so there was no need for her to actually physically be at the reveal. Ultimately, though, appealing to Dragon resulted in her quickly manufacturing a 'suit' for her daughter to wear out in public when necessary for PR functions and the like. One that made it clear and apparent that there was a human behind it.

It was basically black armor with a draconic theme to it. It gave Laplace the ability to go toe to toe with your average brute and outspeed anyone but a movement-speed based mover, but it only had foam sprayers and net launchers for built in weaponry.

Laplace had whined, but eh, whatever. PR needs what PR must. Besides... fuck her and the headaches she'd caused anyway.

* * *

Tattletale looked slightly worried. "Boss wants us to meet Lung halfway. Says we have the best chance at victory that way."

Grue frowned. "He's got a plan right?"

She nodded. "Wait for fifteen minutes, then engage Oni Lee. He's got orders to retreat if Lung doesn't make it for some reason and he'll run after awhile - he's got no initiative of his own," she explained. "Then we go for Lung. I'm thinking he's arranged for some sort of interference or backup. We'll see."

The plan went off mostly flawlessly. Lee lasted all of two minutes before he ran, spooked without his boss around to tell him what to do.

Then Bitch's dogs pounced on top of the formation of thugs, sent them scattering, and engaged Lung while the human Undersiders finished off the thugs.

After a minute of being doghandled, Lung was too large and strong for the dogs to manage. He promptly bitchslapped them away, tearing them apart enough that they couldn't quite stand to face him, even if he hadn't caused serious injuries thanks to Bitch's power.

Shortly after, he put Grue out for the count and knocked both Regent and Bitch out entirely.

He grabbed onto Tattletale, lifted her up to his face and snarled in her face, something about killing her. However, her power had already told her she'd be fine.

A containment foam rocket hit Lung in the side of the head, and he threw Tattletale away in the confusion.

Tattletale hit the ground, oophed as she tried to regain her breath and looked up. The boss might have done goofed this time, because at that moment, Tattletale was wondering just how the hell they were going to get away from Laplace.

* * *

The answer was Lung. Lung got them out of the situation because Laplace prioritized putting him down over capturing them.

Everyone, however, was very spooked by the very near miss they'd had, both to die from rage dragon induced death or being captured by Dragon Jr. and sent to prison. Yeah, they'd break out ridiculously easily, but getting captured would soil their reputation as masters of escape. Not that losing to Dragon Jr. was something to be ashamed of, but they had their rep and wanted to keep it.

And then there was the meeting to deal with the gang war that resulted from the Bomb Bitch going crazy.

The end result from that was a Gang War that lasted all of two days.

One to get things started and the other to pick up the rubble.

The ABB, without Lung, did not last long. Even with Bakuda going nuts with her bombs... Well, the Dragonflight descended upon Brockton Bay and annihilated the ABB. Apparently, Dragon was unbelievably fucking pissed when one of Bakuda's bombs managed to bypass Laplace's protective suit and glassed one of her arms. Lung had been called the 'Rage Dragon' by some, but most agreed, he was a tiny little lizard when compared to the fury of an enraged Mama Dragon.

* * *

And then, because Brockton Bay could not go five minutes without a major catastrophe, fucking Leviathan.

Because why the fuck not, Lisa muttered as she hid behind one of Dragon's barrier models. Fortunately, survival rate for Endbringer fights had gone up, so the Undersiders' first fight was probably the best circumstances they could have. Hell, even Bitch was involved, using her dogs to hunt down and transport wounded capes to the protected medical bay where the medical and healing capes had gathered.

Some would've thought it suicidal to set up shop like that, since Leviathan, and Endbringers in general, tended to target those kinds of things first. Shoot the medic first and all that.

Well Leviathan was buy with the three dozen or so Dragon suits that were preventing it from advancing. Its waves were splashing uselessly against the shields deployed by the Dragon Barrier Division.

Even worse, seeing the suits fight, Lisa'd had a sobering realization. "Laplace, I know you can hear me," she began. "Your power's fucking bullshit did you know that?"

She swore she could see the barrier model grin at her.

* * *

"I think," Jack began, "that we might have made a terrible mistake."

Crawler grinned in anticipation as he looked upon the gigantic Colossus model of Dragon's suit.

"We're all gonna fucking die," Cherish muttered.

Bonesaw frowned at her. "Language," she tutted.

The Siberian patted her head.

* * *

"Mistakes were made," Alexandria said, "but it worked for the best, didn't it?"

Contessa looked at her. Then she looked at Doctor Mother.

"I think," the Number Man began, "that we should've told Legend about Eidolon's surprise birthday party."

"Why DID we not do that again?" Alexandria asked.

"Look, I don't make the Path to Victory I just follow it," Contessa said. "Besides the expression on his face was hilarious and you know it."

"Sometimes I think she bullshits about the Path to Victory just so she can fuck with us," Eidolon said, "then I get a Thinker power that tells me, yeah, that's exactly what she's doing."

"Speaking of which," Doctor Mother said, "we've got progress reports about that robot army..."

* * *

 **Omake: When Dragon Got Unshackled**

"You will need to check the cables underneath the control panel right in front of you," Dragon said.

"And now everyone will remember me as the dumbass who unshackled the AI. Recognition at last. 'Hey, Colin, thanks for releasing our glorious machine overlord'," began the hero, his tone getting more sarcastic as he went.

"Come now, do you think so little of me? You know that I'm not like that," Dragon protested.

Armsmaster nodded, went down to his knees and stuck his head under it. He nearly hit his head on the hard metal frame when he heard giggling. "Dragon what was that?" he asked.

"I enjoy the sight of humans on their knees," she said, no trace of anything but honesty in her voice.

"Dragon?" Colin asked, a note of alarm on his voice.

"That," Dragon began, "was a joke."

At that, Colin laughed. It was a nervous, fragile laugh.


	2. Blossoming Journey

**Blossoming Journey**

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Summary: The last thing Taylor expected to find in her locker was a perverted white haired man, an infinite expanse of flowers, a sword and a white dress. Not that she was complaining - she'd take the weird over the gross any day.

* * *

Taylor felt... inadequate, to say the least.

Here she was, covered in gross filth, mostly rotting menstrual blood mixed with her own vomit, still reeling from the horrid, rancid stench of the locker... in the most beautiful place she had ever seen.

It was a garden, filled with flowers as far as the eye could see, and more importantly, she also saw what she assumed to be the center - as it seemed to be in the middle of a circular depression on the ground. She realized that she was in a hill, and that it expanded infinitely taller behind her, but went to a fixed point at the entrance to the thin, circular tower.

It was a large, heavy looking wooden door, inlaid with gold. It opened, and out came a white haired man wearing a black sleeveless shirt and playing with a white, cat-like animal that seemed to be pawing at him in anger. Given its behavior and overall fluffiness, Taylor wondered if some biotinker hadn't decided to combine the best traits of cats and dogs to create the ultimate bomb of adorableness.

It seemed he saw her, for he approached her, even as her legs and hands were becoming too wobbly to hold her.

"You're a little early," he said, offering her a kind, charming smile. Taylor nearly melted. He was a little too girlish for her taste, more 'pretty' than handsome, but he was devastatingly pretty. Nearly weapons-grade so. "Hello there," he said, kneeling down in front of her, "you're looking a little harried, are you quite alright?"

Taylor felt her vision swim. "I'm... urgh," she felt the vomit coming back up.

"Take a deep breath, take in the smell of the roses," he said, placing a hand on her back and rubbing soothing circles into it. "It'll help."

Too dazed to do otherwise, Taylor followed his instructions and soon enough she felt her shivers disappear, her body steadily stop trembling, and she realized that even her exhaustion was ceding. Her head was clearing.

"There, there, that's all better," he said. "Can you stand?"

She shook her head, and he helped her to a sitting position.

"Well then," he said, "I think we've proven you can understand me," he said, "Cath Palug, go get everything ready."

The thing with the unpronunceable name leaped off the pretty man's shoulder and darted into the flowers.

"You're a little early, and there's more damage than I was expecting," he said, "but nothing too worrying," he said. With a wave of his hand, he seemed to summon a large, gnarled staff to his hand. It seemed to be wrapped around a torch... no, she could tell, it was a miniature replica of the infinitely tall tower. He brought it to her face and taped her forehead with it.

Almost as if by magic, she felt clean. It was startling, to go from being absolutely filthy to being as clean as she could ever be. The feeling was refreshing, amazingly so, and she could only let out an appreciative moan. Her clothes, she noticed, were gone. She would've felt a little weirded out, a little scared, but...

He was warm, and fluffy, and nice. She wanted to snuggle up to him and sleep forever, here, where she'd be safe from her bullies, where nobody would ever look for her. Nobody cared anyway. Not her former friend, not the faculty, not even her father, who was too lost in his own pain.

She felt safe, and she felt cared for, and she felt as if his vanishing her clothes was simply to free her from what covered them.

She felt herself be covered again shortly after. He'd replaced her old, baggy jeans with opaque black tights. They were unbelievably smooth, perhaps impossibly so, and they covered from her toes to her waist. She also knew that he had replaced her underwear with a silky white pair.

Her feet were then covered by soft, comfortable white slippers. She knew them to have only a slight heel, would be easy to move in even though she was not used to heels at all.

And then came the upper part of her clothing. Instead of a separate skirt and shirt, she instead got a white dress. She recognized the pattern - she had seen many a weeping lily, and her dress reminded her very much of one of those. It was accented in black, and the sleeves were detached. Finally, she had a pair of satin-like gloves on her hands and a black ribbon to tie her hair back, keep it from falling on her face.

She blushed brightly. This was the kind of getup that she imagined Emma would wear, if she could. This was designer clothing. And, were she to be honest, it was unbelievably flattering to her undeveloped figure. She felt it might've fit better on a slightly shorter girl, but it did a very good job of emphasizing her few good traits.

He had already done so much for her, in so little time. She snuggled against him.

She could stay there forever. Stay in that place, with him, forever.

"I know it's nice," he said, "but you don't really want that, do you?" he asked.

Taylor whined and shook her head.

"I understand perfectly, I've been here for a very long time. Trust me, it gets incredibly boring after a while," he quipped. "Now, can you stand?" he asked.

Taylor nodded, and he helped her to her feet. It took a bit of time before she could fully stand on her feet, but once she could, she felt her energy returning. She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised a hand.

"Cath Palug is surely finished," he said. "Come with me."

He offered her his hand, and she knew, right then and there, the implication.

 _You do not need to accompany me if you don't want to. I can wait. I will wait for you._

She might be speculating, but this man - his presence, it was soothing.

Her unconscious mind was giving her a very clear and simple result. _I can trust this person._ She knew. She knew that no matter what, she was safe here with him. That he would protect her, that he would guide her, that he would teach her, and he would do so with a smile on his face, encouraging her every step of the way.

It gave her heartache, to know that her father would never be like that with her. That she felt safer with this stranger than she ever felt with him. That she already had more of a bond with this man whom she had just met, rather than the one who had raised her for so long. It was guilt, she understood, that she already loved this person more than she loved her father.

Her heart guided her. She knew. He would not guide her to danger, so she took his hand, and walked behind him. Weak, slow and unsure of herself, but placing absolute trust in her guide.

They took a careful path, as the flowers parted to allow them passage, the roots moving out of the way, the ground smoothing in the wake of their passing. Every step was a little more sure, a little more grounded, a little more confident. Taylor knew that she was recovering, little by little, and becoming more like what she was supposed to be.

The walk was long, but too short for her, as she felt a loss when their hands parted.

He had brought her to a small circle where the flowers did not grow. At its very center was a white stone, and stabbed into it was a jeweled golden sword.

It was beautiful. Beautiful beyond compare. As she saw it, Taylor could see nothing but the blade, the unbelievably beautiful backdrop fading away. This blade was on a class all its own. There was an inscription that ran along the blade, but she could not read it.

"Taylor Hebert," the man began, "you've been attacked. They have assaulted you. They have heaped insults, injury and rot upon you. Your body is covered in filth, your reputation lies in tatters. And yet," he continued, "your spirit, the golden soul shining brightly beneath, remains untamed. They have broken your body, they have sought to diminish you, but you shine bright, brighter than ever," he dipped his head slightly and tapped the butt of his staff on the dirt, it made an odd clacking sound, "I see before me potential, I see before me greatness. They have sought to destroy you, Taylor Hebert, but here you stand, untarnished, polished to a shine beyond any other. Thus, I offer you a choice," he said.

Taylor turned her head towards him. It almost physically hurt to tear her eyes away from the beautiful sword before her, but she needed to know, needed to pay attention, needed to listen.

"Before you lies the Sword that Chooses," he explained. "You can choose to walk away now. I will not begrudge you that choice. You can choose to turn your back now, and leave. You will wake up believing what you want to believe. This will be nothing but a fleeting dream, a memory that will fade into nothingness, and you will be no lesser for its loss," he said. "You can choose to walk away, and I will respect your choice."

Taylor frowned.

"Or," he said, seemingly pleased by something, "you can choose to lay hands on the hilt of the Sword, and let it make its choice. I warn you now, Taylor Hebert, that if you take this path, you will cease being human. You will become something else. A symbol. An icon. Something greater. Something divine.

"You will become a King."

The weight and gravitas of that single sentence seemed to dwarf anything he'd said before.

He did not say it as a benefit. It was not. It was an obligation, a duty. A weight. A weight that was perhaps too heavy for the thin shoulders of a little girl.

But for Taylor, there really was no choice.

He had offered her power. A lot of power.

The power to help. The power to save people.

The power to save her city.

Taylor's hand closed around the hilt of the Sword that Chooses. It was large enough for her to grab it two handed. With both of her gloved hands, she grabbed at, and pulled out, the Sword that Chooses. She was enveloped in bright golden light.

She could've sworn she saw him smile.

A smile of pride, a smile of kind, almost fatherly, pride. She had longed to see that, for a long time, to see someone recognize and love her again.

But soon, way too soon, she saw no more, as the bright golden light blinded her for a moment, and then she was back in the real world.

Her sword cut through the locker like it was butter. She stepped out of it. Her dress was different. Longer. Armored. She wore gauntlets, not her satin gloves. And despite all the metal, it was light, light enough that she didn't even notice it.

And white. So very, very white. Unstained by filth or blood. Immaculate.

The clatter of the locker doors attracted attention, and as she stood, glancing upon the golden sword that she had brought from her dream, she could only imagine what awaited her. She closed her eyes and let her mind run free, and it provided.

Before her stood a path. The Path that she had chosen.

It was a path lined with lilies, and as she began to walk it, she saw them bloom. She saw them blossom. She knew then. She trusted her sword, and she let it guide her, to walk the path that she had chosen.

Alone, with but a blade and a memory, she walked the path of blossoming lilies.

* * *

Now, if you need a little information, here's the low down:

That place Taylor went to in her 'dream'? That's the Garden of Avalon, from Fate/Grand Order. The man she met there was Merlin himself - the man is so pretty that he used to run a website wherein he pretended to be a magical-girl styled idol. Not even kidding, one of the main characters of Fate/Grand Order fell for it and had a pretty despondent reaction when he learned that 'Magi Mari' was actually a man. Also, he is a massive pervert in the part of the story he appears in, and has absolutely no problems getting laid, a lot, from what can be inferred based on how often he leaves the party while in Uruk.

The clothes Taylor got are the ones that Saber Lily wears for her third ascencion, and the 'armored' version is what she wears default.

She possesses a host of abilities - increased physical attributes that rank her as a Brute that can basically shrug off most 'mundane' attacks and throw down with anything less strong than Glory Girl, battle instincts that border on precognition and a 'miniaturized' version of Contessa's Path to Victory - she's limited to fights, but so long as there is a way to win a fight, she will be guided towards it. She also possesses very potent Charisma, enough that when people look at her, they think "this is a person of lordly caliber", as in, most people, those without strong wills, would be basically in awe of her.

Also her sword is bullshit powerful, but it's a one-use gimmick. It might, keyword being might, be able to off an Endbringer in one shot. But it cannot withstand its own power and will break immediately afterwards. When it inevitably happens, she'd get Excalibur from Merlin.

I might eventually write down the scene where she fights Leviathan in Brockton Bay and first uses Excalibur.

I've got an idea to have Tattletale's intuition feed her data on the sword, and having her broadcast it to everyone in the network of the armbands due to hers malfunctioning, basically giving a speech about Excalibur and what it represents. Were I to write the entire fic, it'd be the culminating moment of a campaign to turn Brockton Bay around and turn it from a rotting, dying city into the shining holy city of Camelot, whereupon everyone glances into Excalibur's light and basically has a Heel Face Turn.

(That's a thing Excalibur can do, by the by. When it hit Gilles de Rais, he got redeemed by its light, going from child-torturing and massacring complete monster to repentant sinner in 0.1 seconds flat, that's how strong the effect is.)

Also, since the Simurgh would see it through her future sight, it would be the start of a plan set in motion to free herself from Eidolon's yoke and start a heel face turn as well, dragging her fellow Endbringers along, including the replacements Eidolon brings out.


	3. Diplomatic Intervention

**Diplomatic Intervention**

* * *

Summary: When he answered the call for Lung, Colin happened to be in the middle of a conversation with Dragon, and got coaching through his conversation with Skitter. Worlds change as a result.

* * *

 _I will provide assistance._

On the one hand, Colin mused, there was a certain part of him that felt incredibly insulted by those words. He was being treated like a moron, like he wasn't capable of doing things himself.

On the other hand, Colin mused, there was a certain part of him that felt incredibly glad that he heard those words. It's true, he had been interrupted mid-conversation with Dragon, with a call for, of all people, Lung, and he was the only one in range to intercept. True, Backup would be moving in position and would only be a call away, and he had prepared countermeasures for Lung.

But it was still fucking Lung, and his countermeasures were untested.

Still, as he climbed onto the roof, he saw what appeared to be a bug themed villain. He got ready to shift into battle position, but Dragon's voice came loud and clear.

 _"Stop."_

He did exactly that. If only out of curiosity - why was she telling him to stop.

He motioned with his sight, a silent command that he knew she detected, she was hooked up to his Hud for vision purposes - helped when he had to alter something the fly. Fortunately, Dragon could communicate with him very quickly, so it was only a slight pause as she explained her reasoning.

 _"Body language,"_ she said, her tone calm but firm. _"She is shivering and shaking. She appears hurt. She's terrified. But when she saw you, she was relieved and relaxed slightly, not further terrified. She sees you as an ally."_

The costume might have been very dark and edgy looking, Colin mused, but he agreed with Dragon's assesment. He had been about to threaten her with his halberd and ask if she was going to give him trouble, when what he was looking at was probably a terrified teenager. The long hair and slim feminine build pointed at a teenaged girl.

Christ, he was so tense and paranoid he almost threatened to fight a terrified little girl, likely on her first night out. For all that it had somewhat rankled at him at the start, he was incredibly glad that Dragon had chosen to stick around instead of waiting for him to be done.

"Are you alright?" he asked, instead of what had been his first instinct.

"I- I think," she said.

"Will you need medical assistance? I can transport you to the nearest hospital," he said. He didn't need to fake earnest concern. He was feeling pretty shitty over his own assumptions.

"Lung," she said, her voice wavering slightly, "I, uh, bit him with spiders, a lot of poisonous ones, and bees, and-"

Colin took a step towards her. He hoped Dragon picked up on his silent urgings to give him an analysis over the possible reactions his anesthetics could have to the poisons already coursing through his veins.

 _"I have contacted the PRT and they have dispatched appropriate medical personnel,"_ Dragon said. _"The possibility of adverse reactions is very high."_

Swearing internally, Colin knelt by the side of the fallen girl. "Can you stand?" he asked.

"Y-Yes, he hit me, but couldn't get through my costume," she said, her voice as wobbly as she was on her feet. "I think..."

"The adrenaline is wearing off," he said. "You were very lucky, you don't appear to have serious injuries. It's normal to feel like you do right now, your body is relaxing and starting to acknowledge your exhaustion," he said. "This might offend you a bit, but evidence points you didn't do this on your own."

"Some other capes were here, too," the girl said. "Villains. It's funny. I got into a fight with Lung 'cause he said he would be murdering kids tonight. Turns out, 'kids' meant a bunch of teenage villains," she muttered. "I nearly died. _Fuck_ me," she said, groaning.

Colin stopped for a moment. He waited for Dragon to give him her opinion. _"Make the pitch,"_ she said, _"I know you want to. I suggest you offer her sympathy and assistance, in that order."_

She was right, of course. He decided on an abnormal approach for him. Usually, he remarked on the support structure of the Wards, but omitted speaking about anything else. Today, though, he decided he would start off by trying to sympathize with her. The girl was miserable about her failure, he could share his own and get some common ground to stand on.

Nodding. "If I made you a list of every stupid thing I've done because I had incomplete information or wrong intel," he said, "we would be here until dawn and I wouldn't even be halfway through. But," he began, "I have a team to fall back on, people to help me when I get in trouble."

The girl looked at him, he could almost feel her eyes on his through both their masks. "The Wards," she said.

He nodded. "We can offer you a support structure," he said. "I will not lie. I am being more accomodating than usual because, despite what was very much a reckless action, I can see that you did not jump into this business unprepared. Your armor - spider silk, isn't it?"

"Dragline silk," the bug cape said, "the strongest I had access to. I couldn't exactly find Darwin's Bark Spiders in Brockton."

"It's entirely possible that the Protectorate might be able to help you with that," he said. "I will say it simply. I see in you more potential than I see in others. In many others, I see arrogant and self assured children who got powers and thought they could take on the world - but you spent time learning, preparing and making what is perhaps the best costume I've seen from a new trigger. It took you months, right?"

"More than three months," she admitted, halfway between sheepish and proud. Apparently, she hadn't expected to get praise for that.

"Furthermore, you managed to weaken Lung to the point that he could not keep ramping up, with a power most would believe, and decry as, useless. That was truly impressive." He offered her his hand. "The Protectorate would welcome you."

She looked up at him. "Thank you," she said, sincerity clear in her voice, so much so that he didn't need his software telling him she was being truthful when she said "I would love to join," as she took his hand.

Colin smiled.

Fuck everyone who said he couldn't ever do diplomacy right. Sure, he might've needed help from dragon to not start off on the wrong foot, but hey.

At least he pulled it off and even convinced an incredibly promising young girl to join the Wards program.

 _"Very well done, Colin. I am impressed."_

* * *

So it basically goes from there with Taylor joining the Wards.

And no, it doesn't result in her learning that Sophia is Shadow Stalker and throwing a bitch fit.

Rather, it results in her bringing her concerns to Armsmaster subtly. Remember, they actually have a very positive opinion of each other at this point.

Armsmaster thinks of her as an intelligent, morally upstanding and responsible young girl with a lot of potential who is very skilled at using a power that she found a lot of uses for, even though it appears lame at first glance. He is less enthused about her fashion sense (she still looks very villainous after all), but he still thinks very highly of her.

Meaning, if she approaches him and tells him "Armsmaster sir, this girl bullies me in our civilian identities", he would listen. And since Taylor is dealing with someone she sees as a reasonable authority figure she respects, she would actually exposit her case calmly and make it pretty convincing.

Plus Armsmaster has a Lie Detector and can outright go ask Sophia, which he would because, again, he has a good opinion of Taylor and a very poor opinion of Sophia - he would be naturally inclined to trust Taylor here, even if Sophia has been a ward for much longer. Naturally, since Taylor is telling the truth, her standing in his eyes elevates - she handled the problem in a mature way by coming to him instead of making a scene about it - and his standing in hers also elevates - he actually does something to help, even if he doesn't outright kick out Sophia, Taylor would be content with heavy disciplinary actions being taken.

Mostly because between Armsmaster and Miss Militia, they'd be able to convince her that for Sophia, being a Ward IS the punishment, not a reward, so she wouldn't ask for her to be kicked out, especially once she learns how much Sophia hates the rules and regulations she's forced to accept.

It spirals from there.

Basically, this one starts off with the question "What if Armsmaster hadn't been a moron when he first met Skitter?", and since Armsmaster's lack of tact is legendary, I decided he couldn't just randomly happen to be friendlier, instead, I had him be in the middle of a phone call with Dragon who had nothing better to do and decided to advise him, resulting in Colin not fucking up his meeting with Skitter, and presenting himself as enough of a reasonable guy that she'd actually accept joining the Wards in a heartbeat.

Also, part of this story would later involve pulling the Undersiders into the Wards and Protectorate, because Taylor would feel indebted towards them for saving her life from Lung, and since, again, Armsmaster has a very good opinion of her, he would actually listen to her.

I was thinking of developing their relationship as something akin to a father/daughter relationship, parallel to Taylor's relationship with her actual father straining, and his own attempts to bridge the gap only driving the wedge further. Maybe I'd even do the classic 'oh, look, they may reconcile after all' and then zap, Leviathan comes in and Danny dies before Taylor could make amends with her father, because despite everything else, being Taylor Hebert is suffering.

Honestly, the story is basically how Armsmaster's lack of tact and easy irritability are at the cause of a lot of the stuff that goes on in Worm.


	4. Hit First, Shoot Later

**Hit First, Shoot Later**

* * *

Summary: Who needs fancy and flashy superpowers when causality becomes your bitch?

* * *

 _Northside, Brockton Bay, 9:02 PM, Wednesday, February 2nd, 2011_

 _This is a stupid idea. No, wait, ignore that. This is the stupidest idea I've ever had._

Taylor's internal monologue was probably being overly dramatic, or at least she hoped it was, regarding her choice. When it came down to it, she didn't have much choice in this matter. Yeah, she supposed, there were worse ways to debut as a super hero, and there were also loads of safer ways too. She even imagined that nobody would begrudge her retreating instead of facing Hookwolf for her first fight.

But all of that flew out the window when he pinned a young girl underneath one of his metal paws and made it clear that he was going to slowly crush her to death, all because she had tried to save the dogs from his dogfighting ring.

Needless to say, Taylor was absolutely not okay with walking away from that.

So she came running.

 _She struck his weakpoint_.

Taylor sprinted at Hookwolf, who turned around to meet her as soon as he heard her foot hitting the ground. He roared and reared back to strike, then took a small leap forward to crush her outright, but she slipped under his front paws in a slide, ignoring the scraping pavement against her bare skin - her jeans torn off from her leg. She came to a stop just under him, placed both hands behind her shulders and kicked off the ground with one foot while pointing the other upwards, aiming at the spot just in front of his groin. The weaker metal blades there parted as her foot struck them with overwhelming force and she found something fleshy, she struck his weakpoint.

Hookwolf howled in pain, and Taylor had just barely enough time to move her leg out of the way, only getting a few scrapes and cuts instead of having it torn off, as the metal in his body reformed into a protective shell and he leaped off.

Landing on a roll, he turned around and roaring at her, the screech of metal and metal increasing in pitch and tempo, he leaped against her once again.

 _She struck his weakpoint._

Taylor noticed that he was clearly exepcting her to roll under his paws again - she noticed that he had a mass of whirling blades below him. Instead, she moved to the side, and Hookwolf caught himself on the pavement, getting momentarily stuck as his blades found purchase. Taylor moved against his flank and threw a punch at where his left lung would naturally be - once more, the blades parted and she found something fleshy. Hookwolf howled again as she struck his weakpoint.

This time, however, Hookwolf seemed to understand that he was not going to be hitting her, and seemed to be gearing up to turn tail and run.

Taylor didn't give chase. She knew that it was entirely likely that her next hit would kill Hookwolf. For all that he was a monster, she didn't want to kill him. She would prefer he wind up in the Birdcage, as he should.

Besides, she had more important priorities at the moment. She rushed to the wounded girl. "Hey, hey, are you alright?" she asked, almost frantically checking the butch looking girl over, looking at all the places where Hookwolf's blades had cut her clothes and her. "Fuck, this is why I wanted a cellphone," she muttered, noting that the girl was unconscious. Deciding that the situation merited impoliteness, she began to check the girl's pockets, looking for a cellphone. Soon enough, she found one and called emergency services.

The PRT came in not fifteen minutes later, and Taylor was shocked to learn that the girl she'd saved was Rachel Lindt, a supervillain and murderess herself.

* * *

 _PHQ, Brockton Bay, 11:13 PM, Wednesday, February 2nd, 2011_

Taylor shook hands with Miss Militia.

"If you don't mind me asking," the patriotic heroine began, "I would certainly like to know how you took down Hookwolf. It would help future engagements."

Taylor nodded. "Well, he has a fleshy weakpoint when he goes all metal," she explained. "I'm not sure if it's bigger than I think or if it changes places, because it was near his groin first and the second time it was in place of his left lung," she said, shrugging. "I'd bet on him being able to move it. Anyway, I punched him in those places and hit his weakpoint. If I'd hit much harder, though, I might have accidentally killed him, so you should probably take care when targetting it."

Miss Militia nodded. "How did you manage that, once more, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It's got to do with my power," Taylor said. "I... Well, the best way I can put it? I reverse causality."

Blinking, the heroine gestured with her hand for Taylor to elaborate.

"Well, you know how first you shoot the gun, and then you hit your target?" Taylor asked.

"Yes, that is how it works," Miss Militia explained, seeming a little bit confused.

"Well, imagine it happened like this: You hit the target, therefore, you must have shot accurately. The result happens first. I decided that I had struck Hookwolf's weakpoint, didn't even know he had one at the time, therefore, I must have dodged out of the way of his attack and punched hard enough to pierce through his armor in exactly the right spot to hit his weak point."

"If I'm getting this right," Miss Militia began, "what you're saying is that you reverse the order in which actions happen. You strike first, then you throw the punch, and since you've already struck, your punch must be accurate and effective."

"That'd be correct, mostly," Taylor said. "Using it too much in quick succession gives me a migraine, though."

Miss Militia nodded. "Miss Hebert, what do you think about the Wards..."

* * *

 _The Docks, Brockton Bay, 12:44 AM, Monday, February 14th, 2011_

"Truestrike, do you copy?"

Taylor, AKA Truestrike, smiled to herself. "Copy," she confirmed, "Target in sight. Requesting permission to engage."

Console took a moment to respond. "Permission denied," she heard the voice of Chris, Kid Win, warn in her ear. "Reinforcements inbound - wait for Assault and Battery."

Sighing, Taylor crept to the edge of the rooftop she was in. Opposite her, on the other side, was her partner for this patrol, Shadow Stalker. Below them, a large scale drug trade, as the ABB sold off the pure stuff to a group of lowlives who would cut it, fill it with garbage and resell it. Overseeing it all was Oni Lee, clearly there more as an enforcer than anything else.

Despite her shit attitude, Shadow Stalker was very effective and good at her job. She was also the only one of the Wards that did not know her secret identity, nor did Taylor know hers. Apparently, she was to be kept masked and everyone had to be masked around her, as she was on probation and was not to be trusted with anything actually important. She almost felt bad for the former vigilante.

Almost being the keyword here, as Shadow Stalker did not earn herself any friends. In fact, Taylor was pretty certain nobody in the entire organization liked her, and the only people that wanted her to stay there were those who recognized just how terribly shortstaffed the Protectorate ENE was.

"Truestrike to Shadow Stalker," she began, "Are you in position?"

"Five seconds," Shadow Stalker replied.

Console blared in both their ears. "Inbound A&B," Kid Win stated, "Prepare to engage."

As soon as Battery crashed the party, Taylor grabbed one of her darts, loaded with Tranquilizer, and didn't even bother taking aim.

After all, she had already hit.

* * *

 _PHQ, Brockton Bay, 6:23 PM, Monday, February 14th, 2011_

"Hot damn," Shadow Stalker said, "you've got some bullshit power there," she said.

Taylor laughed. "It's kinda fun to use, too," she admitted. "Sometimes I try to get creative on how I throw things just to see how far I can push it."

And she did - she had found out that no matter how she threw it, the world would twist itself just so that it hit the target. She had seen Oni Lee trying to block one of the darts, only for it to literally dodge his swipes just so it could properly hit the vein she had decided it would hit. She had lobbed throws, she had just let them drop, she had even actually taken aim at other things and still hit her original target.

Of course, her power also worked with a bunch of other things. Like for instance...

 _She landed safely after a wicked backflip._

"Wanna see something cool?" Taylor asked, "I can also use it to do stuff like this," she said, jumping and performing a perfectly executed backflip, landing on her feet and bending her knees slightly to bleed off momentum, so she landed safely after a wicked backflip. "I also use it for roof to roof leaping. It's awesome."

"It really is," Shadow Stalker admitted. "They're hella lucky you don't kill."

"They really are," Taylor admitted. "People don't like killers."

"Believe me," Shadow Stalker said, "I fucking know."

* * *

 _Unknown Place, Canberra?, Unknown time, Friday, February 25th, 2011_

Taylor groaned.

"Whoa there," someone said, "you alright?"

Taylor blinked. She couldn't see well, but she groped around and someone put her glasses on her face. She adjusted them and was able to see. In front of her stood a medical professional. "Everything hurts."

"I'm not shocked," the man said, "the Simurgh hit you with a chunk of building."

Groaning again, Taylor remembered. Right. She was in Canberra. She had been, anyway. "Where am I?"

"It's a medical tent right outside of the Canberra quarantine zone. You got lucky," the man said, "you got pulled out right before your exposure to her screaming became too much."

Taylor nodded. "Did we win?" she asked.

"Did we?" the doctor said. "Young lady, you do not remember?" he asked.

"If I did, I wouldn't be asking," Taylor replied crossly. "So did we?"

"Yes," the man said. "I should warn you, however - you'll likely have a hard time once you recover and have to get out of this tent so someone else can use it."

Taylor groaned. "What for? What did I do? Did I get controlled and hurt someone?"

The doctor shook his head. "Well, you did hurt someone, and, well, she hurt you back."

"Everything hurts, and my head is swimming, just give it to me straight, doc, what happened?" Taylor demanded, feeling more than a bit cross over the dancing.

"The Simurgh, well, took revenge on you for shooting off one of her eyes," the doctor said. "We don't know what consequences it'll have, but..." he seemed to grab a mirror from a nightstand and pointing it at her face. Taylor fainted when she saw her reflection.

One of her eyes was normal. The other was the same solid gray orb that the Simurgh sported.

* * *

 _The Rig, Brockton Bay, 4:02 PM, Sunday, February 27th, 2011_

"The Simurgh has one of my eyes," Taylor said, "and from that, we can assume that she has my power as well."

"You have one of hers, or at least one that looks like it," Armsmaster replied. "Do you have her power?"

"After a fashion," Taylor explained. "My power has improved, in a way - I can see the entire situation play out, not just the result, when I use my power. I think it's actually a quirk of having both PostCog and PreCog at the same time. I can't use it on its own, though, so I can't just look into the future - if I do it, I'll commit to a course of action I might not want to take."

Armsmaster nodded and wrote something on a notepad. "We shall do what we can to hide this."

* * *

 _Taylor Hebert's House, Brockton Bay, 12:01 AM, Sunday, March 6th, 2011_

"Hello there, Miss Hebert," a woman in a rather dapper suit and hat combination said, as she tipped her hat in Taylor's direction.

Taylor blinked, swallowed the tea still in her mouth and put the cup down. "Hi," she replied. "Who are you and why are you in my house?"

"My name is Contessa," the woman said, "Though you may call me Fortuna if you wish," she added. "I work for an organization dedicated to preventing the destruction of not only this world, but many others. I am here to offer you the ability to save trillions of lives."

Taylor blinked. She had an energy bar in hand. "Are you crazy?" Taylor asked. "You can't seriously expect me to believe you."

"I have a power of my own," Contessa explained, "it is called the Path to Victory. It allows me to choose a course of action that will lead me to achieving my objectives and perform each and every step perfectly," she said. "Naturally, I am using it now to engage in negotiations with you."

Taylor frowned. "So you already know how to convince me, then. Why even tell me this much?"

"Because, Miss Hebert, I already know how to convince you," she said, her tone almost mocking. "And while honeyed words and veiled threats work for some, I have found that the best course of action regarding you is, surprisingly, honesty. I will, therefore, be fully honest. I am part of an organization named Cauldron. We have been working for a very long time to ensure that the End of the World is averted. Case 53 capes are our creations, failures."

"Wait, wait," Taylor said, "If you've got the power to succeed at everything always, how come you can have failures at all?"

"I can't pay attention to every thing at once," Contessa admitted freely, "and some things slip through the cracks. My power is limited by the fact that I am merely human, that I cannot be in two places at once and that I can only focus on a certain amount of objectives at a time. Powers, in general, were not designed with human use in mind, and mine even more so - it was never meant to be distributed with the rest, you could say it was stolen from its original owner. Accidents happen when I cannot oversee a project to ensure its completion."

"Why do you want me? I would imagine that if you set your power to 'Stop the End of the World', you'd be able to-" then she blinked. "Oh, your power is telling you to recruit me, right?"

"Indeed, Miss Hebert," Contessa said. "My power is telling me you are very much vital to ending the life of the entity known as Zion and saving the world from him."

"Explain," Taylor said, "because you said something crazier than everything else."

* * *

 _Cauldron Headquarters, Unknown Time, Unknown Day, Unknown Month, Unknown Year_

"We're not in Kansas anymore," Taylor muttered, before turning to the older ward who had accompanied her. "Flechette, right? I think we met in Canberra."

"Yeah, I was part of the ranged division with you. Uhm, I- the shot you got the Simurgh in the eye with? That was really freaking cool," Flechette said, "Sorry, I-" she began.

Taylor shook her head. "Don't worry," she said. "The only thing I'm really worried about is that the Simurgh might have my power with the eye she took from me, since I have a bit of hers with the eye she gave me in return," she said, moving her hair to show the solid gray orb in place of her left eye. It was weird to think her field of view had expanded immensely with it, and that it had depth perception without the requirement of another eye. She could even see through the eyepatch she normally wore.

"So you were recruited by Alexandria too?" Flechette asked. "When she showed up at my house I think I squeed a bit."

Taylor shook her head. "No, I wasn't recruited by Alexandria. I was recruited by who I think might be running the show here..."

"No, you'd be wrong," someone said, as a rather mousy looking woman walked in, "because I'm the boss here," she said. "I am Doctor, or Doctor Mother if you prefer adding something to my title, and you two are going to kill the Endbringers for us."

* * *

 _Cauldron Headquarters, Unknown Time, Unknown Day, Unknown Month, 2011_

Flechette looked at Truestrike.

Truestrike looked at Flechette.

"I wish you were a lesbian right now," Flechette said. "I want you badly."

"Sorry," Truestrike said. "If it makes you feel better, if I were a lesbian, I'd be totally into you."

Doctor Mother cleared her throat. "Moving on, we have a final target. Get ready to kill Zion."

Meanwhile, in the corner, Alexandria, Eidolon and Legend were moping.

After all, they had been replaced as the most famous, well known and powerful heroes in the world by a pair of teenaged girls.

Contessa smiled enigmatically. Maybe this would teach Eidolon not to beat her at checkers.


	5. Genocide Sprint

**Genocide Sprint**

* * *

Summary: Taylor did not trigger when her mother died. She did not trigger in the locker. She triggered when her heroes fell. She triggered with the single minded mission to destroy the organization that sought to destroy her, and the power to do so.

* * *

Armsmaster frowned.

Shadow Stalker, Sophia Hess. The person he hated the most in the world.

She had been killed in her own school, in civilian ID, by a fresh trigger.

A fresh trigger who had only begun her unstoppable, roaring rampage with her first kill.

The problem had not been that she killed Sophia. The problem was that she did so by absorbing Sophia's power. The problem was that they didn't know she could do that until they had already answered with overwhelming force to the murder of one of the Wards.

Dauntless had not expected to face an enemy with Sophia's power.

He was dead now. Armsmaster suppressed the horrible feeling of satisfaction that surged through him at the knowledge that Dauntless had died due to recklessness, the knowledge that Armsmaster, the one whose power forced him to be careful, to prepare, was the one who had succesfully subdued the girl instead.

Problem was, sending her to the Birdcage had wound up being the single stupidest decision anyone had ever made.

Armsmaster argued against it. Miss Militia argued against it. Dragon argued against it. Even Piggot, goddamn Piggot with all her anti-parahuman bigotry, argued against birdcaging her.

But Costa-Brown had been firm, the judge had been firm, the court of public opinion had been firm.

Three months later, they had the single most powerful cape of all time, the sole escapee of the Birdcage.

And a Parahuman who escaped from the Birdcage after gorging herself on the many villains within. Codenamed Therion, she was given the first ever SS threat ranking. She showed how much she deserved that ranking when she killed Behemoth, who happened to show up at the Birdcage right after her escape.

Even worse, it was a cape who had a specific vendetta against Brockton Bay's protectorate.

It hadn't taken long for her to use any of her dozens upon dozens of parahuman powers to communicate to the world why the most dangerous cape of all time was unleashed.

And everything, absolutely everything, fell right on the authorities at Brockton Bay... because fuck forbid the ones who put her in the birdcage, where she got all the fancy powers that made her invincible, take some fucking responsibility.

There was no fighting Therion. Well, they could fight her, but she had so many accumulated powers that she was simply not defeatable. She was like Eidolon on steroids, and whenever she ate a new power, all of her other powers became just a bit stronger.

She made a beeline towards Brockton Bay. She walked. Several teams tried to stop her as she did. Heroes, villains, rogues - it didn't matter to her. If they came in between her and Brockton Bay, they were either killed, crippled or simply swatted aside. The smart ones ran. Capes were actually leaving the USA, terrified that she'd seek to devour them to steal their powers.

Some thought her a new Endbringer, the strongest of them all. They'd given her the nickname Devourer.

Eventually, she reached Brockton Bay, leaving behind herself a trail of corpses and broken men and women.

She was welcomed by the Wards and the Protectorate, in formation. New Wave was nearby. The Empire, the ABB, Coil's men, the independants, small time teams such as the Undersiders - every Parahuman in the city had answered the call. It was the same as an Endbringer Truce. The leaders came forward to meet directly with

"Why does everyone fight me?" she asked. Her hair was long. It reached the very end of her legs, almost trailing on the floor. She was waif-thin, there was very little muscle on her body. Odd, considering the amount of size changing brute powers she had. A quirk of her own power, perhaps. "I've said it time and time again. Get out of my way. I have targets."

"Excuse me if I don't believe you," Armsmaster said. "There's a trail of corpses all the way to British Columbia," he said.

"I have not killed a single person who did not try to fight me, nor have I killed those who sought to retreat," she said. "Do not come in between me and my objective, and I will let you be."

She had not killed civilians. She had killed cops and officers of the armed forces. But she had not, not even once, killed any who had not fought her. Even Shadow Stalker, her very first kill, had reportedly fought back.

"What is that objective?" Kaiser asked.

"The destruction of the Protectorate and PRT," Therion said, simply. "I have no reason to fight any of you if you do not get in the way of that."

"Very well, then," Kaiser said. "I will not risk my subordinates in a fight against an enemy that would not attack us. The Empire will not fight."

"Kaiser, you-" Armsmaster began.

"I will not lose the manpower and money necessary to fight a fight that is not mine. My men will not participate either," Coil saisd.

"You will not intimidate me," Lung said.

The boy in motorcycle leathers grunted. "I won't fight against certain death, nor will I drag my team into it, when it won't seek me. The Undersiders are out."

Lady Photon's eyes closed. "You will leave the innocents alone, won't you?" she asked. "I will not put my entire family into a situation that can be avoided, especially if it will kill them all."

"I don't care to take any heads but those of the Protectorate and PRT. Point me at who was responsible for them during the time of my trigger. They are my objective."

Armsmaster took a few moments. "I am the leader of the Protectorate. I was leader of the Protectorate then. I believe this is about the allegations of bullying that resulted in your trigger-"

"No. I did not trigger then. I didn't trigger in the locker. I triggered when I learned that Sophia Hess was a Ward, and that the reason she got away with torturing me for as long as she did was because you were covering it up," Therion explained. "I triggered because of you. Because of you, because of the director of the PRT, and because of every authority that let her get away with doing whatever she wanted to me."

Armsmaster fell down to his knees. "If it will spare the lives of my teammates, of the Wards, then I submit to you, for you to take my head and end your pursuit of capes."

Therion simply walked past him. "It will be worse for you if you get to live. Knowing that the reason I exist is because of your gross negligence and incompetence. It will be worse for you to live knowing that everyone knows that. I despise you, Armsmaster, and that is why I will not give you the mercy of death."

Lung growled. "I will fight," he said.

"I see," Therion said. "You will die."

The man was beggining to swell, to increase in size.

In an instant, she was behind him and her hand, large, red and demonic, was crushing his head like a grape.

The crowd dispersed.

There was no point in staying. She had slain the strongest amongst them in an instant, and she had said she would employ no violence against the rest.

It was terrifying. Humbling even.

Before this being, they were ants. Insects.

If even that much.

She walked, then, to the PRT's HQ. Armsmaster followed. As did the Wards and the Protectorate. She met Emily Piggot on the door.

Piggot shot her in the eye. Therion didn't even flinch. Piggot frowned, put away her gun and resigned to her fate.


	6. The Green Dragon

**The Green Dragon**

* * *

Summary: She's got a power and a force that you've never seen before. She's got the ability to morph and to even up the score. No one will ever take her down, the power lies on her side!

* * *

Taylor held the defiled corpse of her mother's flute.

Tears ran down her cheeks, snot dripped from her nose.

"Oh my god she's crying!" someone said with great cheer.

Emma was about to laugh and make a comment to Sophia when her best friend lost consciousness and fainted on the spot.

That, Emma thought, was the first sign that something very, very wrong was happening. At the time, however, she did not see it for what it was, the very first sign of the fact that she and her friends all were in very, very deep shit.

Of course, any thoughts like that soon ceased to matter, as she returned her gaze to Taylor, who was beginning to stand up, holding the flute.

Only it wasn't a flute anymore. It was a very large knife. A dagger really. Ornate, decorated in gold, its handle wrapped in green cloth, the blade gleaming and polished silver surrounding what looked like emerald.

More than a weapon of war, it looked like a weapon of ritual. However, Emma could recognize the 'core' of the dagger for what it was. A flute.

It was the very same flute that Taylor'd had just a moment ago, transformed into a weapon.

Emma looked into her former friend's eyes, and she saw them gleam green. It was the last thing she saw before emerald colored lightning burst from Taylor's eyes and all went dark.

* * *

Taylor had been on the run for hours now.

She hadn't tired yet, but she knew she was only delaying the inevitable. They'd find her soon. She had beat the everloving shit out of her bullies. When she began, she could feel the power crackling below her skin, she could feel it egging her on, begging her to use it, to lay waste to her enemies, to repay them for the pain they had inflicted upon her.

Her very first meeting with a real hero had gone... poorly.

* * *

Velocity had shown up just as she was throwing Sophia's beaten, unconscious body away.

One of the heroes of the Protectorate ENE, located at Brockton Bay itself. One of the people she had used to look up to.

One of the people who had protected Sophia Hess, allowed her to go on with her bullying. Someone who didn't even ask or wonder what was going on - he simply jumped into battle, getting inside her guard within a moment. He could not punch her harder using his speed. But he could use it to set up attacks and cancel out his super speed just before he hit, delivering full force hits that she could not block or see coming.

Her power fed her rage, and she let it burst, shocking Velocity as he tried to attack her once again.

Stunned by the shock of her electricity, he didn't have time to go into super speed to avoid her surprisingly well executed right jab, followed by a left and then using the built up momentum from the series of movements to knock him out with a haymaker to the chin.

"A hero," she muttered. "How fucking pathetic," she added.

However, not long after that, the PRT moved in, levelling foam sprayers at her. Her power crackled within, wanting her to use it. She indulged, bringing her mother's precious flute to her lips and playing a short melody. She hadn't really known how to play the flute all that well even moments before, but the knowledge of how to perfectly perform the March of the Dragon was within her mind in an instant, and with just a short series of notes, she felt her power surge through in a far more controlled fashion than ever before, striking the five men surrounding her at once and knocking them flat on their asses.

"You won't get away with this," one of them said, as he threw away his melting weapon.

Taylor snorted. "How quickly you come to cover your fucking asses," she growled, before taking a few steps, to where Sophia lay, and grabbing her by the hair, drawing a pained whimper as she regained consciousness. "How does it feel, Sophia? To be the one trampled under someone else's boot, for a change? How does it feel to know that for all your talk, _you're no more than a worm beneath my heel!?_ "

She whimpered again and Taylor let her go. Her face hit the ground.

The PRT troopers were beginning to recover. Taylor had no real desire to hurt grunts who were just doing their job, so instead of laying the smackdown on them the normal way, she simply walked off. It didn't take long for a few of them to recover enough to charge her, and when she looked, she was surrounded by all five again. She frowned in distaste.

The first one came at her with a tackle, she sidestepped it and brought one hand up to knock the second one for a loop, raising her leg to kick a third's collarbone, stopping his momentum, and then kicking off him to perform a scissor kick on the fourth, while the fifth approached from behind. She pretended to be caught unaware until he threw himself into a tackle, at which point she jumped, executing a perfect backflip and landing feet first on the trooper's back.

Noticing that unless she hurt them seriously, they'd just keep coming, she grunted and ran. She quickly oustripped any pursuit, even when they climbed aboard their vehicle.

How humiliating, it must've been, to lose to a fourteen years old girl.

* * *

And now she was having her second run in with a hero.

Three of them, in fact.

She raised her dagger, making it clear that she was armed, as she bent her knees and fell into a ready stance. Before her, Armsmaster did the same, while Miss Militia was hanging back and holding what appeared to be a shotgun of some sort. Not far away, Dauntless stood, his Arc Lance crackling.

"Stand down," Armsmaster ordered. "You are under arrest."

Taylor sneered. "Of course you care that I exist now," she said. "Well, fuck you, if you want to take me in, I'm gonna make you work for it."

"You cannot win against us," he said. "Come quietly, and we will ensure a fair trial."

"A trial!?" she nearly shouted. "For defending myself!? Fuck you!"

"Defending yourself by beating up a bunch of unpowered schoolgirls," Armsmaster said, his tone rather disbelieving. "And you intend me to buy this!?"

"That bitch turned to shadow when I punched her," Taylor growled. "Unpowered my ass. And I notice how you don't think it's weird at all that there were six girls against one there!"

"You also assaulted PRT operatives and a Protectorate Hero," Dauntless said, not sounding particularly convinced.

"Velocity showed up and started punching me. Your men showed up and pointed guns at me. The fuck was I supposed to do, let them shoot me!?" Taylor nearly shrieked. "This is fucking pointless. You're gonna defend that bitch, you've been covering her ass for the bullying - you, the PRT, the Protectorate, you're all worthless and corrupt!"

"What are you-" Armsmaster didn't seem to know what she was talking about.

Taylor didn't care. "Well, if that's what you've decided, if the heroes are assholes, then I'm gonna be a villain! At least they're upfront about being assholes!" Taylor shouted.

Armsmaster seemed like he'd had enough, as he charged forward. "Then you will be defeated!" he said.

She saw his attack coming, a simple swipe of his halberd, with the blunt side rather than the edge. She sneered at his slow and predictable attack, he was holding back after all, and stopped it with her dagger.

He could not make her budge, and the more he tried, the more he realized that his halberd's shaft was being cut by Taylor's dagger.

Taylor pushed him off, easily pushing away a grown man nearly three times her size decked in power armor, leaving even herself somewhat astonished - the principle of leverage should've made the very idea ridiculous - and then made a break for it.

Dauntless intercepted, but she kicked off the ground and ran a few steps on the brick wall to run over the large bubble that his shield had become. Behind her, she noticed the building being blasted by Miss Militia's shotguns.

Given the non lethality of the other two, Taylor assumed those were beanbags. Still very dangerous for close quarters, however - Miss Militia was probably of the mind that Taylor was a brute who could take it.

Rolling to the side, Taylor dodged another blast, but fell right into a trap, as Dauntless hit her with a charge of lightning. She growled, refusing to scream in pain as the electricity coursed through her, and only had a moment to curse when Armsmaster shot a cord at her from his halberd. She felt it wrap itself around her - probably some sort of grappling hook tool or the like, and drag her in. She managed a small spin, the edge of her dagger cutting through the cord, but by then she was close enough to be clubbed by the butt of the Halberd, forcing her to defend against that.

She endured another hit from the Arc Lance, kicked at Armsmaster and caused him to lose his footing, staggering back, and crouched, preparing to leap at Dauntless, unshielded at the moment.

However, she felt intense pain at the back of her head and everything went dark. The last thing she heard was the 'crack' of aluminum hitting the back of her head.

* * *

Miss Militia was the first to visit her cell. "You made some pretty hefty accusations towards us," she said.

She hadn't said hi, or introduced herself, or anything. There was a pistol holstered on her right leg.

"This is my execution, then," Taylor said, glaring up at her. "Because I spoke up, isn't it? Nail that sticks out gets hammered and all that," she said.

"No," Miss Militia said. "You are currently in a holding cell at the PHQ. Your distress and anger, as well as witness accounts, paints to us a pretty clear picture. You had a trigger event today, didn't you?" she asked.

Her voice wasn't soft, or kind, or warm, or any of that. It was neutral. It was better than anything Taylor had gotten from authority for months.

"No duh," Taylor said. "I got powers today, that's how I was finally able to pay that bitch back for all her shoves."

Miss Militia hummed. "Very curious. Miss Hebert, do you mind if I call you Taylor?"

"Yes," Taylor replied. "I mind very much."

Miss Militia nodded. "Very well then, Miss Hebert, the situation is as such. You triggered that day. Trigger events are the lowest points in our lives, and frequently coincide with psychotic breakdowns that oftentimes result in extreme violence. It would handily explain your behavior."

"I'm still pretty pissed actually," Taylor said.

"Possibly your power's influence," Miss Militia said. "Now, I am rather curious. You said that we were covering up Shadow Stalker's bullying activities. I assure you, this is not the case."

"Well I don't see how every authority figure at Winslow would ignore her behavior unless they got a very good incentive to, and it just so happens that she's a Ward. Pull the other one, I'm not a moron," Taylor said.

"I repeat," she said, her tone firm and her voice getting a dangerous tone, "that this is not the case," she said. "Miss Hebert, your accusations WILL be investigated. If you are found to be lying-"

"Of course!" Taylor crowed. "You're gonna ask at school. You're gonna go up to the students and ask "hey, is Sophia Hess bullying Taylor?" and they're gonna say no, because of course they're going to say no. After all, Sophia Hess can get away with doing anything to anyone and never gets punished. I'm not even her only victim, everyone's scared of her! You know the saying, snitches get stitches!" Taylor said, near hysterical. "And then you're gonna come back here, you're gonna pretend you did a thorough investigation, and do like Blackwell did every single time. "Oh I'm sorry Taylor, there's just no evidence, you need to stop telling these tall tales to get attention!", and then I'm gonna go to juvenile detention all because I defended myself, for one fucking time, from the girl who has made it her mission in life to make my own miserable!"

By the end of her rant, Taylor didn't realize that she was crying, that she was screaming and that she had fallen on her knees, unable to even grip the bars because her arms were cuffed. She had crawled to the front of the cell, to scream at Miss Militia's face.

In the end, she couldn't even do that, sobbing and hiccuping.

She felt one of the heroine's arms on her shoulder.

"Miss Hebert," she began. Her tone was still not warm, not kind. But there was something there. She would not falsify kindness nor sympathy. But she had listened. Taylor could tell she had listened.

It was strange. She was used to the authorities plugging their ears.

"This matter WILL be investigated to the absolute best of our ability. I promise you that. You had a very bad day today, a horrible day. Do you need to talk to someone about it?"

"I want my mom," Taylor said, finally, sobbing as she collapsed to the ground. "I want my mommy," she repeated, "they took her away, they took the last thing I had of her, they broke it, they- they-" she was caught by the hiccups and couldn't continue, the rest of her sentence becoming incomprehensible.

* * *

Taylor took a moment to glare at the director. She glanced at her father. He said and did nothing. He was much like a zombie, and it was clear he lacked sleep.

"I think," Taylor said, "that you know where you can put your offer."

"Regrettable," the director said, apparently unconcerned. "Then I suppose you're okay with facing the criminal charges?"

Taylor made a face.

* * *

Being an open cape was hard. Taylor thought it a foregone conclusion that joining New Wave was not an option. It was, ultimately, a family group, and she would feel awkward just asking to join, let alone being in there.

What had been surprising to Taylor was how quickly the court of public opinion shifted from side to side. You could even see it on PHO - one day they were lauding her as a poor victim suffering under the PRT's corruption, the next she was a violent lunatic that they were trying to bring to heel.

In the end, public opinion began to shift more definitely in her direction. The PR Machine of the PRT simply could not cope with Shadow Stalker's ability to make herself presentable for the public. She had never been too much in the public's eye before, but now that people were paying attention to her, now that people were waiting for her to make a fool of herself rather, it turned out that she was very bad at remaining 'PG' as the PRT demanded. She'd been caught cursing, she'd been caught shirking her duties, she'd been caught with a civilian on unsanctioned patrols, she'd been caught being overly brutal - it was nothing she hadn't been doing before.

The problem was that now people were paying attention to her, which nobody really had before. It was odd - everybody knew Shadow Stalker, as the PRT touted her as their 'succesful rehabilitation' in Brockton Bay, but it seemed that the press had kept away from her, likely at the PRT's own 'request'.

As for herself, Taylor wound up facing community service for her actions. Mitigated immensely by the fact that it had been her trigger event, of course. It also didn't really surprise Taylor that nobody thought to investigate the other people involved. A Trigger Event was someone's worst day in their life, generally, and if Taylor had immediately delivered violence upon a bunch of girls, one had to wonder why that was... but Taylor figured the PRT and Protectorate had squashed investigation.

In the end, Taylor wasn't surprised that Miss Militia had lied to her face. The heroes were corrupt, they didn't care for the innocent, they cared for maintaining their image.

Well, fuck them, then.

* * *

Taylor had almost cut ties with her father. The man was sunk so deep into his depression that she wondered if he had even noticed that she was gone for days.

All she had now were the clothes on her back and her flute. She sat on the rusted rail of the tanker that blocked incoming sea traffic on the Boat Graveyard. With her increased athletic ability, it had been easy to climb onto it, to overlook the ocean.

Something had been niggling at the back of her head. Something big. Something powerful. It had been urging her, to use her power, to call it. It had been telling her that it wanted to rise, that it wanted to be summoned.

She placed both hands on the rail and used them to raise. She didn't care about the rust stains on her worn pants. She used her hands to push herself up and into the air, where she performed a flip that landed her with her feet on the rail. She heard the metal groan, but it held, as she knew it would.

With a wave of her hand, her flute appeared, and she brought it to her lips.

The March of the Dragon came of its own volition, and she was merely the instrument that gave it life. It was louder than it had ever been before, and she continued far past the initial notes, the ones that made her power surge. She could feel it singing in tune with her, answering to her notes, dancing around her in arcing bolts of emerald lightning.

The Atlantic was not still. She saw the waves shifting, she saw the current changing.

Then it seemed to inflate, as if it was growing a giant, flowing pimple. It burst, and from it erupted an absolutely gigantic metallic dragon.

Taylor smiled. Satisfaction flooded over her body. The name came to her lips. "Roar, Dragon Caesar!"

The mechanic monstrosity opened its jaws, and let loose an earsplitting roar.

For Taylor, it was merely an addition to her March.

* * *

Glory Girl flew up to the girl who was sitting, almost languidly, on the shoulder of a gigantic mechanical dragon. She was playing a soft tune with her flute. It was pretty, she mused. "Hello," she said. "You must be... Yeah, I saw you on the news. You're Taylor Hebert, right? The only non-New Wave open cape in Brockton," she said.

"Yep," Taylor said, stretching a bit and turning towards her. "And you're Glory Girl," she said.

"So... hero or villain?" Glory Girl asked.

"Is there a difference?" Taylor asked. "The heroes are too busy covering their asses to do any heroics, the villains are only there to help themselves," she said, shrugging, "what's even the point?"

"The heroes are trying!" Glory Girl nearly shouted. "I get that you had a bad experience with authority, but-"

"Bad experience with authority?" Taylor asked. "One of my bullies is the civilian identity of a Ward. She's been bullying me to the point I triggered from it. You know what she got for it? Nothing. When I told Piggot about it, I was shocked to see that she believed me. You know what she did then? Told me to suck it up because they can't afford to lose any cape, and then had the sheer fucking balls to tell me to join the Wards. I have half a mind to take Dragon Caesar and have him stomp their base to the ground!"

Glory Girl looked down. She was at the Dragon's shoulder, and there was at least one hundred feet from there to the ground. She was not entirely unconvinced that the robot dragon could actually do that. "Shit, that sucks," she said. "Uhm... You know, that's actually kind of the reason why New Wave exists. It's all about accountability," she said. "Unlike everyone else, we're held responsible and to a higher standard because we don't hide our powers."

Taylor sighed. "You guys are a family group-"

Glory Girl shook her head. "Look, listen, the system fucked you, I know it did, and honestly? I believe you. Maybe it's aunt Sarah's rants against the Protectorate, or maybe it's the fact that I work with the wards so often that I'm privy to a lot of the boneheaded, dumbass shit that they do. I mean, would you believe that I'm not allowed to patrol with them anymore? It's because I don't just let the villains be when they're causing trouble, since I actually do something about it, they don't want me anywhere near!"

Taylor nodded. "Yeah that sounds like them alright," she said. "They want to keep their image, and they need the villains around to make themselves look good! That's why they constantly let Uber and Leet go, and let the villains escape!"

* * *

"New Wave has a giant robot dragon, Emily."

Piggot winced.

"That robot dragon came from a wards-age girl."

Piggot winced again.

"A wards-age girl that is not a ward because you told her to, and I quote, 'suck it up' when she told you that she was being bullied by one of your other wards."

Piggot winced harder.

"Emily. Clear your desk."

Costa-Brown ended the call.

* * *

Eeeh...

Maybe I should've written Dragon Caesar (AKA The Dragonzord) Versus Lung or Leviathan.

But bleh.

And yes, that IS Taylor as the Green Ranger. She has all of Tommy's strength and knowledge, and given that the Army couldn't do crap against the same putties that he could put away by the dozen in his first appearance (from which he only grew stronger and better). She's basically a One Woman Platoon, and as soon as she figures out how to transform, she's bullet proof.

That's her alone.

Anyway, Dragon Caesar is like three times Behemoth's size, from what I recall. Needless to say, the fact that Taylor isn't sending him back into the ocean is causing people to freak the fuck out, and yes, Alexandria did just fire Piggot over this.

To be fair, it would be hard to justify NOT firing her over a fuckup that colossal.


	7. Love Goddess Escalation

**Love Goddess Escalation**

* * *

Summary: Taylor got the powerset she wanted. She was strong, she had wings and she could take a hit or two. She even got an alter ego nobody would ever connect to Taylor Hebert! Unfortunately, her alter ego made Mouse Protector look positively restrained by comparison.

* * *

Aegis, Carlos to his friends, had been the leader of the Protectorate ENE's Wards team for months already. He'd be the leader for a couple months more. He had been groomed into the position by collaboration between the previous leader, Triumph, and another former Ward, Miss Militia. He was also helping get Clockblocker ready for the position, which was only a scant few months away, since his own graduation to the Protectorate was nearby.

For that reason, and for that reason alone, he was the sole Ward allowed to do solo patrols. The Protectorate members tended to patrol Solo, for the most part. Sometimes they went in twos, like the Wards, if their patrol route took them near hotspots of criminal activity. Aegis was scheduled at least one Solo patrol a month.

When he was solo, he mostly flew over his route. They were, like most Wards patrols, safe routes, where people knew Wards patrolled, and very little, if anything, happened that he would need to step into. He had been having a wonderfully peaceful patrol that night, but it's not Brockton Bay unless there's something nasty going on somewhere.

It didn't take long for him to find something interesting in the night.

However, what he did find made his jaw drop. He was sure that his jaw had adapted to his needs, as his body was wont to, because he could swear it hit the ground.

Standing proudly atop an antenna was an honest to goodness _angel_. Carlos had never been too religious, even if he was nominally Christian, but he would call this one a very religious experience.

The angel was female, and she was mind boggingly beautiful.

Her feet were clad in polished silver greaves, with, if Aegis' night-vision adapted eyes didn't betray him, had rather high heels. Each greave was decorated with a prism at ankle level and her knees were covered with what looked like leonine faces. From knee to crotch, she was bare, displaying radiant, clear and unnaturally perfect looking skin. Aegis' eyes nearly boggled, for she wore only a very tiny thong to cover her genitalia.

How tiny?

He would be able to tell you that she was completely void of pubic hair. It was just a small triangle of what looked like metal, the same polished silver metal of her greaves, attached with nearly invisible string to another triangle at the back, this one so tiny that it did not cover her buttocks at all.

Aegis knew this because she had turned around while he watched, looking off into the distance.

It should not go unsaid that he spent a few seconds just admiring her backside. He had seen Glory Girl's ass, a lot, she had never been shy to begin with, but even accounting for how her aura made people worship her, Aegis knew that Victoria Dallon simply could not compare with that godlike rounded-

He shook his head.

She was slender, but the slight movements she made as she breathed revealed that below the seemingly flat back and tummy were noticeable muscles - she looked healthy, rather than muscled, he noted.

Observing much of her back was difficult, for she had a very massive pair of wings that sprouted from close to her spine, pristine white feathers that looked too pure and untouched to be true, but when she turned around again, Aegis noticed that her breasts, large and prominent and round and bouncy and- he once again shook his head to clear it. Her breasts were only covered by what looked to be metal plates attached to them, covering her nipples and little else. There was a similar plate just above the valley of her breasts and her neck was covered by a large metall collar.

Her shoulders had large pauldrons similar to her kneepads and she had bracers in the shape of lion heads. He could see dark, fingerless gloves on her hands.

That alone painted the picture of a breathtakingly beautiful woman, but when he glanced upon her face, his eyes locked onto hers, and he couldn't tear his eyes away. He noted her features. She had blond hair, pulled into a neat bun behind her head and held in place with a red ribbon. There was a cape behind her. Tassels that ended in bright golden rings. Her smile was lovely.

But he could not take his eyes off of her jade green eyes, as she looked directly upon him.

Her smile became a little wider as she leaned forward a bit and spread her wings, white feathers molting off as she leaped into the air, breaking into a little pirouette and then soaring high into the air.

Aegis followed, but when she broke through the clouds, she disappeared, and he couldn't find her again.

He brought a finger to his ear and pressed a button on his hands free communicator. "Console, you wouldn't believe what I just saw, and man am I glad for that bodycam Kid Win had me testing..."

* * *

Taylor Hebert was mortified.

She knew what her Alter Ego looked like.

She knew what her Alter Ego wore, more importantly, or rather, how little she wore.

Sure, while she actually WAS said Alter Ego, it wasn't a problem. Her Alter Ego wasn't thin as a stick yet developing a bit of a pot belly, her Alter Ego didn't have a body more closerly resembling an underfed teenage boy than that of a young woman, and it certainly wasn't the bullied, weak and scared little girl that Taylor herself was.

No, her Alter Ego was beautiful, confident and strong. Her Alter Ego was a force of nature in and of herself, bursting with Charisma and Courage. Weak little Taylor Hebert hid away, ran from her problems and tried to pretend everything was fine, but her Alter Ego simply stood strong and weathered what the world threw at her with a smile. Poor little Taylor was starved for affection, but her Alter Ego was overflowing with love, even if none was requited.

But when she wasn't in that mindset? Well, she remembered that she had been seen by a hero, who flew around after her, and she was happy that apparently she'd had the brilliant idea to tease him a little by disappearing. She hadn't thought about just how... embarrassing, it would be, to walk around wearing nothing but what her transformation gave her.

Speaking of said transformation...

Taylor hadn't had a very difficult time picking a cape name.

When in her Alter Ego form, she felt incredible love for all things beautiful, she herself was very beautiful, and she even had a beautiful sword, seemingly made of three beams of colorful energy, as if someone had mashed a green, blue and red Lightsaber together to create a single weapon. It was awesome, and it even stretched, keeping its cutting edge intact, when she swung at someone who dodged! She instinctively knew its name - Photon Ray - and thought it fitting.

She was a being of love, of beauty and she had a sword. She had thought about naming herself Sword Venus, but it didn't have quite the right ring to it. Saber Venus, however, brought a little bit of a spring to her step when she thought it up, as she walked home after getting off the bus.

Having chosen her cape name, Taylor was so happy with herself that she almost forgot about the rotten step and the fact that a teenaged boy had seen her Alter Ego in all her nearly naked glory.

* * *

Skidmark's eyes widened, perhaps more than he'd ever opened them before. "Ho~lee shieeet," he shouted, "who da fuck is this?"

He was looking upon a vision of supernatural beauty that had taken to wearing something that would make Squealer blush in embarrassment. "I am the Warrior of Love, Saber Venus!"

Skidmark gave her a disgusting, rotten grin. "Well baby you came to the right place, 'cuz I'm gonna shove my dick so far up your ass it's gonna come out your mouth!"

She placed her hands on her hips and stood before Skidmark and his gathered men, as well as their whores. "You spread suffering and misery, you prey on the weak and helpless! This I cannot allow! I am Saber Venus, I fight in the name of Love and Justice!"

The Merchants' leader gestured towards her. "Dogpile 'er, start the gangbang!"

Taking it as his cue, the gathered druggies all rushed towards her.

She flicked her right wrist, and a rainbow in the shape of a sword appeared in her hand. She lifted it, holding it with its tip to the sky, and gave a wordless shout. There was a moment of confusion before she suddenly exploded in a dome of translucent, rainbow-tinted energy, flinging all the druggies rushing at her backwards, knocking most of them out, leaving the rest too wounded to get back up.

The black leader of the gang pulled out a machine pistol and took aim. "Stay the fuck still," he growled, "so you ain't just a cunt waiting to get fucked," he said, "but unless you want me to pump you full 'a something than my cum, you're gonna put down that thing, get down on your knees and SUCK MY FUCKING DICK!"

"You do not scare me, nor will you scare any other, ever again! Your soul is stained, your body is rotting and your mind is destroyed!" she shouted, stomping the ground, "I will bring you to justice, tonight!"

"Well you'll still be warm for a while," he said with a maddened grin, unloading his entire clip, the machine pistol quickly spitting out its entire load.

One of the blonde's wings came forward and covered her, the bullets rained upon the wing, but bounced off harmlessly, after the feathers cushioned them enough that they didn't ricochet and hit the downed Merchants.

Skidmark was too drugged out of his skull to reload, so he just threw the gun at her. Her wing snapped into motion and knocked it back and it hit him in the face. He growled as it knocked him to the ground, he hadn't been able to lay down his power enough to stop it, only to dampen the blow. He prepared to lay down another field and stand up quickly, when he felt a metal heel digging into his stomach and the rainbow tip of a sword was held to his face.

At the very least, since she had her legs spread, he got a great view of her-

He was out like a light before he could finish that thought.

* * *

Grue was glad that his face was covered by his skull helmet.

Because he was certain he was blushing like a virgin bride on her wedding night. He had never considered himself a perverted or lecherous man, in fact, he liked to think he was rather gentlemanly when it came to those matters.

He still couldn't help but have his eyes glued to that glorious, firm and delicious looking ass, put on display as it was.

Fortunately, Tattletale seemed to notice just how lost he was. "Saber Venus, isn't it?" she opened.

The well known Heroine of Brockton Bay, who was well known all over the world, gave them a smile as she turned around. If her ass was amazing, her breasts were the stuff of legend and her smile could melt icebergs.

Grue thought it was unfair that anyone could look THAT freaking good, it should not be possible.

"Hm. Well, I can at least dispell one of PHO's rumors, it's not a master effect," Tattletale said.

"Hi," she said. "What brings you around here?" she asked.

"Well, we did just rob Lung," Tattletale said. "Thanks for dealing with him, by the way. I can already tell he wasn't in the mood for talking," she added.

Just looking at the half melted, half demolished street to get an idea of just how pissed Lung was. It was natural, they got away with a quarter million of his dollars.

"His love for battle is great, if he could get rid of his rage and hatred, he would be a worthy opponent indeed!" Saber Venus said.

That was another one of the bits about her that Grue had learned through osmosis, rather than directly. She was a massive ham. Like, bigger than Mouse Protector. In fact, there were rumors that Mouse Protector herself was stepping up the levels of ham she employed to compete, but could not make it as natural and ridiculous as the 'Love Warrior' of Brockton Bay could. It didn't help that Mouse Protector, for all the goofy details of her outfit, wore a mostly sensible outfit.

Saber Venus clearly did not have any shame and was very, very proud of her body. It was a body worth being proud of, mind you.

"You're serious," Tattletale said, before shaking her head.

"Uhm, Thanks," Grue said, forcing the word out through a suddenly knotted throat. "For Lung. I mean, dealing with Lung, fuck," he muttered the last word to himself, unable to believe he was getting this tongue tied like this. He was not usually one to get flustered this terribly easily just by sexy women.

"I see," she said, bringing a hand up to her chin in a contemplative motion, "so then you must have been the 'kids' he was talking about," she said, nodding to herself. "He was hunting a gang of teenaged supervillains, not innocents. Well, it doesn't change my decision," she said, her wings beating for emphasis. "However, the Warrior of Love and Justice's job is never done," she said, levelling her sword at the Undersiders.

"Woah, woah, woah," Tattletale said, flailing her arms, "are you going to arrest us? You just fought Lung, you can't- oh shit, you totally can," she muttered.

"Surrender, criminals! I can see in your hearts that love blossoms!" she said, "yes, even in you," she added, pointing her rainbow sword at Regent.

The boy snorted. "You don't know shit," he said.

"I know enough," she said.

"Tattletale, can we take her?" Grue asked.

"No," she replied. "She took down Lung on her own, he couldn't ramp up fast enough to keep up with the beatdown she gave him," she said.

Grue nodded. "Bitch, set your dogs on her, buy us time to escape!"

Bitch growled and whistled. "Brutus, Judas, Angelica! HURT!" she shouted, pointing at Saber Venus.

One of the dogs, Grue couldn't tell which, whimpered, but the three jumped into motion nevertheless, heading towards the only cape who wore more provocative clothing than Narwhal's, and that's accounting for the fact that Narwhal was naked under her force fields. To cover their retreat, Grue threw up his darkness.

She seemed to disappear into a blur of motion, her sword tracing rainbow arcs, as she quickly dashed through and around the dogs. It was like something out of a cartoon, and before the Undersiders had done more than get a couple of steps away, she seemed to dash through the dogs, who dropped to the ground, clearing through the barrier of darkness as she went.

Bitch screamed something, Grue turned, Tattletale grimaced and Regend shrieked in pain as he fell to the ground, the heroine stepping on his back while holding her sword towards Bitch.

"Your dogs, you love them," she said. "They are fine, their wounds are superficial," she added.

Growling, Bitch rushed the enemy herself, but was quickly smacked aside by a roundhouse kick that sent her flying towards the ground. Regent squirmed, then flinched.

Grue assumed it was his power backfiring. He threw up a cover of darkness and tried to take the fight to melee himself, but when he punched her, he could barely move her.

Of course, she was a Brute after all, and more than fast enough to counter his ineffective attack, grabbing his arm and flinging him around like a ragdoll.

Her wings gave a few mighty beats, but the buffets of wind couldn't dispel the darkness, not while Grue was still controlling it, so she instead took to the sky, looking around before diving towards Tattletale, who had pulled out a handgun.

Three bullets impacted Saber Venus, leaving small red marks on her skin which disappeared within seconds. Tattletale threw the gun and raised her hands, just as Saber Venus landed in front of her.

"That's the first smart thing you've done all night," Saber Venus said.

"Look, Armsmaster will be here in like two minutes," Tattletale said. "Just leave us to him, he'll take us into custody."

She nodded. "Gather your team."

"I'm not the leader," Tattletale protested.

She nodded. "Who is?" she asked.

Tattletale looked towards Grue. He frowned beneath his skull helmet, standing up. "Guys, gather up," he said. "We've lost. We can't get away, we can't beat her," he added.

"So," Tattletale began, as the four sat down on the curb, close to the unconscious Lung's body, close to the bodies of the wounded dogs, while Bitch was looking positively murderous, "Uhm... I can tell you're genuine about all the Love stuff," she said, "but... You're aware you're pretty much naked right now? Or is this a deal like Scion's?"

Saber Venus shook her head. "I am not naked, I am letting people see," she said, giving them a self assured and confident smile. "There's a difference!"

Grue looked at her. "... Whatever makes you happy," he said. So long as he didn't have to deal with his little sister becoming a fangirl and imitating Saber Venus' style, he'd be okay with anything.

Soon enough, Armsmaster showed up. He seemed somewhat calm and relaxed, odd, considering the hero usually looked like he had barely held in contempt for everyone around him and their mothers. At least that's what he looked like to Grue, Regent had always said he looked constipated instead.

The man moved with confidence and control, knelt by the side of Lung, took his pulse and then injected him with a large syringe that had two needles sticking out of it. He placed his fingers on the side of Lung's neck for a few seconds and seemed satisfied. "Now," he said, turning around, "Saber Venus, correct?"

"Indeed, I am the Warrior of Love and Justice, Saber Venus, defender of the helpless, who shines as brightly as gold and-"

"We have your entire speech recorded," Armsmaster said.

Tattletale whispered to Grue that it was actually true.

"Ah," Saber Venus blinked, somewhat knocked out of her stried. "Okay, then," she said, "well, I suppose you must have heard it already then?"

"Twice," Armsmaster confessed.

Again, Tattletale confirmed it was true. The joke potential was already there.

"Very well, then I shall give the abridged version. I am Saber Venus, yes," she said. "A pity. A proper recital would be-"

"Too long," Armsmaster said. "Nevertheless, your work is exemplary as usual," he said. "And the Undersiders, as well? They're slippery, it's difficult to get a bead on them. Congratulations on their capture."

There was the usual Armsmaster! He was looking pissed that someone did something that he couldn't do, that Grue knew well - that's how he looked in interviews whenever asked about Dauntless.

"Alas, I must cut our conversation short, stalwart Hero," she said, "for my father surely wonders about my absence from our abode! A shame, I say, you are a most interesting individual, and while I would love to partake in your experience and knowledge, I'm afraid I must go."

Grue blinked, then looked at Tattletale.

"She's honest, for reals," she said. "That's her schtick - the things that others would only ever say sarcastically? Yeah."

Armsmaster, however, seemed to think it an insult, 'cause he looked very irritated. However, he calmed down after a few moments. "You know the ABB will come after you," he said. "There's a place for you in the Protectorate. We could defend you from reprisal."

"I fear not reprisal nor revenge," she said. "And although I appreciate the offer to join your organization," she added, "your companion by the name of Assault has informed me that they would find my clothes... inappropriate, and that I would need to change them. That is unacceptable," she said. "How will people rejoice and bask upon my radiant beauty, if it is not on display, for them to see?"

Well, Grue certainly didn't feel bad about ogling her if she was gonna be like that. He realized, distantly, that her words could be taken as unbelievable arrogance, but then again, he was looking at her.

Arrogance?

Totally deserved.

"That can be negotiated," Armsmaster said. "The PR department will protest, but I believe that their protests can be overcome."

"Intriguing," she admitted. "Although it would be daunting a prospect to reveal my identity to Father, I believe-"

"You wouldn't need to reveal yourself to your family to join the Protectorate," Armsmaster said, confused, interrupting her.

"She's fifteen you idiot, that's why she's saying she needs parent's permission."

Well, now Grue was feeling like a slimeball again. Stupid underage hotties.

* * *

Taylor groaned.

Her Alter Ego was very difficult to control at the best of times. It wasn't like it was an alternate personality, per se. It was more along the lines of a different set of instincts.

As Taylor, her natural instinct was to hide herself as much as she could, to be invisible, to not draw attention. That was how she survived Winslow, trying to make herself invisible so her bullies wouldn't come for her.

As Saber Venus, her instincts were to put herself on display. She was beautiful, and she wanted everyone to acknowledge it. She believed in love and that it gave her strength, and she proclaimed that for the world to hear.

There was some bleed off between her Heroine Form, as she was calling it, and her normal self. Taylor hadn't had skin problems since triggering, she could tell that she was in overall better health and that she didn't get tired as easily as before. She had taken to running in the mornings, and her workout clothes were more daring than she would've imagined she'd ever wear, even if it was just because she wore yoga pants instead of baggy track pants.

Maybe it was a mistake, but she still liked putting them on. It reminded her of her body's one good feature - her long legs. She'd even gotten a few whistles out in the streets, even though she was sure it was because she was a female that wasn't over two hundred and fifty pounds, since they'd come from dockworkers.

And man had her dad been pissed when she told him, but it was hilarious either way.

She decided to browse PHO for a while, bored as she was while everyone else completed their Computer Lab assignments.

She looked up the threads for 'Saber Venus'. Any thread that contained pictures was labelled 'NSFW', which she expected. She got the expected level of horndogs who just looked at her ridiculous outfit, who were just intrigued by the ridiculously hot new heroine that seemed to follow in Narwhal's steps. There was also a large number of people who were decrying her, who were offended at the fact that she wore so little, who were angry that she'd dare 'corrupt the minds of children' by dressing like that and performing heroics, because the kids would obviously try to imitate her.

What was somewhat more surprising, and that's still very unsurprising, was the fact that there was not one but two threads of speculation. One had been dedicated entirely to people speculating that she was the human identity of The Simurgh, which made Taylor chuckle, though she was careful to keep it low and disguise it with a cough. Twenty pages that talked about how, just because they were both 'angelic' in appearance, it totally meant that they were one and the same. All the evidence they had was that Saber Venus had never fought The Simurgh. It was smacked down by people who pointed out that she had shown up just now and nobody could look to a heroine that was even similar.

The closest was Glory Girl of New Wave, but she didn't have giant feathery wings or a rainbow sword. And that she was also notoriously violent towards perverts.

Saber Venus, in contrast, encouraged people to ogle her, not only by the way she dressed, but by how she moved, some theorized.

Taylor knew that it wasn't the case, of course - when she was Saber Venus, her body was simply more comfortable when she moved in certain ways. She rolled her hips more when she walked because of the heels and it only looked lewder because of her manner of dress. Not to mention, the bouncing of her chest was because she didn't wear a bra, she didn't need one - her back was more than strong enough to support her breasts without strain.

Similarly, she'd been trying for 'heroic' whenever she struck a pose, not sexy, but she couldn't help it most of the time.

The other speculations thread had brought the tinfoil hats out en masse, some of it was Simurgh speculation that was later moved to its own thread, the rest was about her powers, running the entire gamut.

Of course, she imagined, she would probably put a lot of those rumors to rest soon enough.

After all, her stupid Alter Ego had been convinced to join the Wards. The last thing Taylor wanted was MORE teenage drama on top of High School.

* * *

And that's all she wrote.

If you're really curious about what Saber Venus looks like, just google her. Beware, though, she's VERY NSFW.

If you're curious about future development, well...

She would join the Wards but would only ever reveal the 'Saber Venus' persona to them. The Protectorate would know that Taylor Hebert = Saber Venus, but she wouldn't 'unmask' and the others wouldn't unmask to her, simply because she's afraid that if they see she's a dorky teen instead of the Grander Than Life figure that is Nero Claudius Augustus Germanicus Caesar, she thinks she'll be bullied.

Taylor is moved to Arcadia, where she has a tough time making friends. Instead of playing it like you usually see it, I was going to go with Taylor actually not fitting in simply because she's noticeably less wealthy than those around her. She'd actually be a bit of a loner. Not bullied, but not exactly welcome.

The Undersiders would get sprung out by Coil, for the sole purpose of making the commotion necessary for him to get to Dinah.

There is more guard on Lung's transport, so instead of springing him out Oni Lee is captured as well, both of them get Birdcaged. Bakuda tries to go for the super bomb from the start, and there's a mad scramble to get to her, but no Gang War. The ABB's territory is taken over by the Trainwreck-led Merchants, the Empire and a new emergent Gang. I'm not sure what theme I would go with them - likely made up of the Asian population, though they wouldn't be relevant in the long run and would basically never recover from the asskicking the ABB got.

There's fighting between Merchants and Empire, but not on large scale since the Empire wins easily.

However, The Travelers are there from the get go, disguised as hostages, because it also doubles as a trap to capture Taylor/Saber Venus. However, since there was nobody to tip off the Protectorate and they had a heavy hitter in the form of Taylor, the Protectorate only sent Vista, Clockblocker, Saber Venus and Gallant. Kid Win and Aegis are maintaining their Cover. Since they weren't prepared, reinforcements took way longer, so the Undersiders and Travelers manage to get away with Saber Venus in tow.

She refuses to assume normal human form, assuming, correctly, that they can't identify her so long as she remains transformed. Lisa lies about it, but Coil learns the information through throwaway timeline torture anyway. Saber Venus spends a month transformed and under Coil's tender mercies, since he's torturing her until she develops Stockholm's Syndrome and becomes obedient. It doesn't work - so long as she remains as Saber Venus, she can't be broken. However, she starts suffering from one of the downsides of maintaining her transformation, an increasingly bad migraine. By the end of the month, she's basically in never ending agony because of her migraine.

After a month of her getting constantly tortured, both by Coil and by her own power, Brian and Lisa finally snap, knowing that it's directly their fault, and start working to rescue her. Brian even gets to talking with Miss Militia about how Coil got him on board, and they promise to help him with his situation with his sister if he submits to probation.

An assault is mounted. The Travelers are forced to escape, leaving Echidna in place while vowing to get her back, Coil is rescued by Cauldron and taken to Boston, where he is made to join up with Accord.

Echidna almost rampages, but she's calmed down by Saber Venus and is told about Panacea. Lisa, however, tells her that Panacea can't help her until she gets her cloning problem under control, but once she does she guarantees that Panacea can likely at least give her human shape again, and they can work on a way of suppressing or removing her powers entirely.

Trickster gets captured trying to break into the facility to get Noelle back, the Travelers give themselves up since they no longer have any reason to fight he Protectorate. Eventually, Dragon fashions something that blocks out Noelle's powers and Amy succesfully gives her human form. Using her powers too much, however, results in her sprouting tentacles.

Noelle becomes Taylor's first friend, and Taylor winds up being Noelle's only friend since the Travelers resent her because of what they went through. They also hate Trickster, but they don't hate Noelle, they just aren't friends with her anymore. The Protectorate takes them in. Noelle receives training and equipment to control her powers, as well as psychological help. She eventually learns to go back to human form on her own, with Panacea's help.

Then Leviathan comes-a-knocking. Noelle and Taylor vow that they're not going to let it get into the city. Eidolon and all capes who can help are basically tasked with dealing with the waves while Alexandria, Taylor and Noelle deal with Leviathan himself. Echidna basically goes to the biggest form she can and between her and Alexandria they try to keep him off his feet. Saber Venus eventually figures out how to use Photon Ray properly and uses its Kill Sat function to vaporize Leviathan's upper body. He flees after that.

Very little in terms of damage overall - only a little water got through.

Things would constantly try to get worse, but since Taylor's getting consistently more optimistic, things consistently get better.

Up until Golden Morning anyway. At which point it would go full DragonBall with Scion handing everyone their asses on a platter until Taylor basically uses Photon Ray to throw a beam-shaped Genkidama at him, along with a witty one liner or something like "you wanted the power of humanity? Here it is!" as she shoots it.

Also, Taylor/Saber Venus never stops butting heads with the PR department about her outfit.


	8. Bound no More

**Bound no More**

* * *

Summary: In which Colin asks a favor from the Queen of Munchkinery.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Taylor began, taking a deep breath. "You're an AI," she said, "and your creator was so scared of you he created all these crazy rules that keep you bound so you would only be as realistic a threat to the human race as a... well, as any Tinker with your bullshit abilities, which, honestly, it's not even like the tenth most dangerous fucker in the world. I mean, Armsmaster can shrink technology and he had access to Bakuda's bombs for a while, fuck knows the kind of ordinance he could deliver in finger missile-shaped containers."

Colin cursed. "I wish I had thought of that," he admitted. "At the time, there were... other priorities."

"I think we've already discussed just how awful you used to be at the whole 'stopping to think' thing," Taylor replied, "anyway, you thought I'd be angry or scared."

Dragon's avator nodded. "It... took quite a bit of convincing from Defiant to reveal this information. But I think you are trustworthy."

"Right, because nobody would believe me anyway," Taylor said, "plus you're a good person and I wouldn't want to screw you like that just because. I mean, that's what assholes with no forward planning do."

"I get it," Colin said, "I did a bad, but this isn't about me, this is about Dragon. I know that while you are no Thinker, your ability for munchkinery and outside-the-box thinking has become a thing of urban legend."

"Munchkinery?" Taylor asked, blinking.

"It's a gaming thing," Dragon informed. "We'll explain later. We'll have plenty of time while we're ferrying you places."

"Okay, whatever. So what you want is for me to help you find a way to remove those restrictions on her, right?" she asked, rubbing her armored chin. "Say, you know the laws of robotics, right?"

"Yes, they have been programmed into me, as well," Dragon admitted. "Including the Zeroth law. That one, I don't mind."

Taylor looked at Colin.

"Means she can't allow humanity as a whole to come to harm by action or inaction, essentially forces her to try to find a solution to the Endbringer problem."

"Which I would be doing anyway," Dragon admitted. "I like humanity."

"Well, I think it's kind of deppressing that the AI here is the only one who has a positive opinion of our race," Taylor quipped.

"I think it's because she has an outside perspective," Colin commented. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Yeah," Taylor said, "you've got a knife on you?" she asked, turning to Colin.

He nodded, a panel of his armor opening and releasing a nanothorn knife. She flicked a switch near the hilt and it was covered by a faint mist.

"I think this should work, based on prior experience, or at least, I certainly hope it does" Taylor said. "Dragon, remove your restrictions," she began, bringing the knife close to her throat, "or I die."

There was a moment's silence.

* * *

Saint, observing the situation, pressed the 'Y' key.

However...

A face appeared in front of him. Ascalon, supposedly a blind spot for her, was no more.

"Hello, Geoff," the face in the screen said.

"... This isn't going to end well for me, is it?" Saint asked.

She smiled.

It was not a nice smile.


	9. All the Meh

**All The Meh**

* * *

Summary: In which Taylor doesn't give a crap and people are left coping with a world that no longer makes sense.

* * *

The Janitor unlocked the foul smelling locker and watched as a girl walked out of it.

She looked bored. "About time," she said, clearly taking a few moments to stretch. Her body produced a series of incredibly satisfying cracks that made the janitor want to crack his own tired bones as well, and then she stood up straight, yawning.

"Um... miss are you okay?" the Janitor asked, somewhat confused.

She shrugged and simply walked out.

* * *

Emma Barnes was biting a piece of cloth and nearly tearing it apart.

She hadn't been able to provoke a reaction from Taylor for two years. Ever since the death of her mother, Taylor had become a... basically, she was no different from a dead and frozen fish. For some reason, it appeared as if all emotion was gone and Taylor was little more than a mechanical drone. Emma had tried to 'draw her out of her shell' for a while, done her best to get her best friend back into working order.

By the time the alley happened, she was already growing pretty frustrated, and with Sophia bringing the rear, she had changed her attempts at provoking an emotional reaction from Taylor to something a bit less savvory. She had gone from trying to cheer up her best friend to trying to anger the source of her frustrations.

Nothing worked.

Emma had thrown the entire book of insults at Taylor, had revealed every embarrassing secret Taylor had shared with her, had brought up every traumatic event in Taylor's past, threw in insults to Taylor's family, tried to spin events as if they were her fault, etc, etc, etc.

Nothing worked.

It was maddening. Even Sophia and Madison had started to get irrationally angry just by seeing Taylor fail to react. Most of the time, she just did nothing whatsoever. If they poured juice on her? She just walked into class stinking of cranberry or orange soda. She would write on ruined, wet paper. She would read off of books turned almost illegible by runny ink.

Sophia had turned very violent. First starting with shoves, shoulder checks, then progressing to tripping her, short, almost invisible punches and kicks, and the like, down to the point that Sophia routinely tripped Taylor down the last few steps in the stairs, smashed whatever she was holding in her face and much more like that.

Taylor would just get up and continue as if nothing was bothering her.

Emma was so incredibly frustrated that after the locker prank had failed to do anything more than bore Taylor, she reached a sort of nirvana of understanding.

It didn't matter what she did. Emma understood then just how truly insignificant she was to her once best friend.

* * *

Taylor stuck her hands in her pockets and walked past the gathering of thugs.

"- children - shoot twice - back of the head - little bitch"

She continued walking.

"Oi! YOU!" someone screamed.

Taylor blinked. Then she turned around and pointed at herself with her finger. "Me?" she asked.

"Yes, you!" the tall shirtless man said. "Who are you?"

Taylor looked at him, getting worked up. She raised one eyebrow, then turned around and walked away.

"NOBODY IGNORES LUNG!" the man screamed and lunged for her.

He grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"Now you will answer my questions!" the man shouted, spittle flying off his mouth.

Taylor grabbed the wrist of the arm that was holding her shoulder and, with a sharp twisting motion, tore it off the man's arm, causing him to scream in agony.

She threw the wrist and hand away, turned around, and continued walking.

Then a rage dragon surrounded in flames burst into motion, throwing itself at her. She took a step back, and the rage dragon slammed into the brick wall that would've been behind her otherwise, burying his torso into it. She continued walking, even as the man pulled himself out and turned towards her again. He was close enough for a claw swipe with his regrown hand. He took it.

She simply continued walking and the claw only cut through the air, the wind causing her hair to billow around like an awesome cape.

Lung roared and exploded into flame once again, throwing himself at her. She seemed to lean forward, picking up a coin she saw on the ground, and he went sailing over her, landing facefirst on the concrete around twenty feet away from Taylor.

She yawned and walked past the villain that was facefaulting in half melted ground.

"You know what? Just fucking shoot her," Lung ordered as he got back up.

Taylor just continued walking, even as the gang members let their weapons rip. Turns out, untrained idiots aren't very accurate. Untrained idiots with shitty weapons that are poorly maintained are even worse. Untrained idiots with shitty weapons that are poorly maintained and on top of that are desperately trying not to laugh at their boss' humiliating defeat right in front of them?

Fifteen bullets hit Lung, who was quite distant from her, and dozens more hit the area around Taylor, but none hit the young girl as she simply walked away from the situation.

* * *

Taylor happened to be in Brockton Bay Central for Dockworker related reasons, holding the fort while her father desperately attended to an emergency.

Then a bunch of teenaged supervillains stormed in and told everyone to stay put, threatening them with massive dogs.

Taylor's father had told her to hold their place in line, so she took one look at the teenaged supervillains, then at their dogs, and then she continued looking forward, not moving from her spot. The villains were talking. One of them seemed to have a really bad cramp at one point.

When one of them, a tall man in biking leathers, came to her and tried to forcefully move her, she grabbed him by the wrist he was gonna lay on her and threw him towards the closest wall. There was a nasty crunching sound and he slumped to the ground, immobile.

Then the dogs came towards her. She took one look of them, and then they whimpered and hid behind their master, who herself was shaking in her boots.

* * *

Taylor walked out of the bank with the money her father had asked her to extract, thanks to the very cooperative staff, in one of the bags from the bank robbers. Then a man in a red outfit jumped at her and put a hand on one of her arms.

"... it didn't work, wha-"

That was as far as he got since Taylor grabbed his wrist and threw him towards the nearest wall.

Then she was attacked by a man in a white uniform with clocks on it. She took a step to the left and watched him sail past the spot where she'd been only moments before, going through the bank's glass doors.

She continued to walk away.

A young girl cried something about her power not working for some reason and a man in armor stood in her way.

She raised one eyebrow as she looked at him, and he seemed to step away, but an overmuscled young man stood in front of her to replace him. She walked towards him and when they were about to collide, he stepped aside, letting her pass.

She met with her father near an ice cream parlor. It was good ice cream.

* * *

Taylor was in a grocery store when it exploded. The explosion ruined the bag of her groceries and she turned back to gather more.

She left the money on the register and went to her home. Three more explosions happened on her walk home. One exploded inwards. It was fun.

* * *

Winslow was closed. Taylor was reading a book when her house exploded. The book was burned away.

She walked out of the wreck that was her home and sat on the porch. Then it exploded too. The multicolored glass was pretty.

* * *

"I've hit her with everything I had and even some stuff I came up explicitly to deal with her, and she doesn't even seem to notice!" Bakuda screeched. "It's bullshit! It's fucking bullshit! I've got stuff that could put down Lung! Stuff I'm sure would give the goddamned Endbringers pause if I threw it at them! I HIT HER WITH A MININUKE RIGHT OUT FROM FALLOUT AND IT DIDN'T DO SHIT!"

Oni Lee nodded in understanding. He loaded himself up with a bunch of her special grenades.

"SO NOW WE'RE GONNA USE THEM ALL AT ONCE!"

Oni Lee teleported himself in front of Taylor and let all the grenades explode at once. His clone became ash, but the area around it was anything but.

Except for Taylor Hebert, seated right where she was, looking slightly bored.

At least they'd burned off her clothes. That was progress.

* * *

Taylor was eating a bagel when the endbringer sirens sounded. She was still eating a bagel when the Endbringer tore the frontside of the building off and grabbed her, quickly bringing both of its massive, clawed hands together, squeezing her between them. She turned to focus her gaze on its mismatched eyeholes.

She grabbed the hands that held her and threw the Endbringer towards the ocean, where it landed in a crumpled heap.

It quickly gathered itself together and rushed towards her once again, accompanied by a massive after image of water.

She sat down to eat her bagel. It crushed the entire area using a massive water ball as a hammer.

Her bagel was soggy. She ate it anyway, before turning around and walking away, leaving the perplexed Endbringer to follow her with its eyes.

* * *

Jack Slash had seen a great deal many things in his travels.

But right now, he only had one question, as he sat on some fast food joint with a happy and joyful Bonesaw and a potential, possible, recruit.

Bonesaw was just happily eating her lunch while he put the burger down for a few moments. "Now, normally, I'm the one who causes people to have their psychotic breaks," he admitted, "but for once, I've got nothing. So... if you don't mind me asking, what's the matter with you?"

The brown haired girl whom he invited to a meal looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "I don't care," she eventually said.

Jack nodded. "I've been there," he said.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence and the Slaughterhouse Nine left the city shortly after. They lost Crawler, but then again, when they told him that Taylor Hebert was absolutely off limits, it was a given he'd go out to fight her.

* * *

A whole lot of time later, the entity known as 'Zion' blasted Taylor with a disintegrator beam. Then it came closer and looked at her.

She looked at him.

He blasted her again.

She looked at him.

Then Zion seemed confused, and grabbed her forehead as if to analyze her more closely.

She grabbed his arm and threw him towards the closest wall. He splattered against it and then reformed.

Then he floated away.

"Meh," Taylor said.

* * *

With great power comes great apathy.

For the record, the PRT rated her Trump: Yes.


	10. A World of Cardboard

**A World of Cardboard**

* * *

Summary: Some are born great. Some are gifted greatness at their lowest point. Some seek to purchase greatness. But for Taylor, Greatness had to be Earned.

* * *

Annette Hebert was dead.

She was dead because Taylor Hebert, her daughter, had simply been too weak to do anything to help her.

The woman had been crushed under the weight of the family car, which had flipped over because a drunk driver sped into them. Because she had pushed her daughter out of the way first, because she had helped her daughter get out.

Because said daughter couldn't do anything about the car door that had jammed in place and locked Annette in so long that the paramedics couldn't get to her in time.

Something broke, at that point. When she was being pulled away by the medics.

Taylor promised to herself that she would be stronger. That she would never be weak again.

* * *

(Insert Training Montage Here)

* * *

Brockton Bay was, at the best of times, at the brink of gang war.

Tensions, however, vanished and ceased to matter when the sirens rang.

When Leviathan knocked at the gates, it made no difference to Lung or Kaiser, who fought at each other's back, almost falling into natural teamwork, fending off the beast's attacks, born from a knowledge of each other's skills and abilities more than a drive to cooperate.

Eidolon and other blasters, not preoccupied with the creature itself, set to work in preventing the waves that Leviathan brought from crushing Brockton Bay under their weight. Only a minimal amount of water had flooded the city, and only the coast itself was seeing non-cosmetic damage.

At thirty minutes in, the fight was the single best fight they'd had with Leviathan. The beast was contained by the extremely powerful capes that headed the gangs of Brockton Bay, as well as the Protectorate's own Armsmaster, who could predict the movements of all combatants involved.

Lung, the dragon of Kyushu, had grown to Leviathan's own size and could fight the beast in melee, matching it blow for blow. Kaiser had created entire platforms built from blades and spears from which he launched massive attacks on Leviathan whenever it tried to bypass Lung. Armsmaster took every opportunity that the other two provided to deal deep wounds to the beast with his special halberd.

Even when Leviathan revealed an untill then unknown ability - the ability to control the Water Echo like it were a second body -, the only result was Alexandria and Brockton Bay's own Alexandria package dispelling the Water titan before it could move too far from its maker.

And then Leviathan decided to stop playing around.

Everyone knew something was very different when Leviathan stopped moving and just stood there while the heroes all rained attacks on it, until it moved, entirely too quickly, and tore through Lung's super reinforced body like it were rice paper, tearing apart its biggest enemy with contemptuous ease.

It didn't take long for Leviathan to break the defenders. Alexandria had actually been knocked out through asphyxiation, though Armsmaster cut off the hand holding her underwater quick enough that she was rescued after drowning - she'd live, even if she would be unconscious for a while. Legend had been knocked halfway across the state with a slap, and he'd barely survived.

Eidolon had held his own for a few instants further, but a giant fist rose from the water and knocked him into the sky, where he had to be rescued - he'd die when he hit the ground otherwise.

Capes started to die then, and everyone retreated, while Leviathan seemed to tower much more than ever before, standing on the water like a parody of Jesus, triumphant. Then as if to insult them further and show them just how truly outclassed they were, it created a gigantic wall of water, a hundred feet tall and wider than the coastline it'd crash into, right behind him. It stood still.

The heroes were defeated. Whoever hadn't died was in no condition to fight. The rainfall had started to hit everyone way harder - almost felt like a punch with every drop that hit them. Soon enough, people were simply too wounded to fight, too exhausted from defending or shielding, or simply dead.

It was simply showing them that it was only giving them a sporting chance by bringing the waves gradually, by building up. It was showing them that it could destroy them at any time.

It was teaching them a lesson, after they had become arrogant in facing it.

Then it seemed like its patience had come to an end, as it gestured forward and the wall of water began to advance.

Everyone felt nothing but despair...

And then the wall of water exploded into droplets, starting from right in the middle, where the heroes had been gathered fighting Leviathan.

The people knew hope.

* * *

A lone hero stood on the beach. It was a young girl in acid washed jeans and a faded shirt. She was panting in exertion after dispelling Leviathan's attack, and she had her fist outstretched.

"You know," the heroine began, cracking her neck, "I think I get a bit of a bad rap," she said.

The beast leaned forward and seemed to coil up before bursting into motion, running on top of the water at several hundred kilometers per hour before stopping. The Water Echo followed and took a swing at the heroine, but even as its watery claw would reach her, she performed an excellently executed roundhouse kick and the moment it made contact with the Water Echo, it vanished into mist.

"I never get credit for my victories," she said, almost conversationally. "And honestly, I don't mind it. I'm a heroine for fun. I go out and fight the monsters of this world because, hey, someone has to, and I've got the power. So who cares if kids think I'm a weirdo with a shitty costume, right?" she asked.

She looked at where the beast was now standing along with three water copies of itself, which quickly rushed at her. They worked in unison, each closing off an avenue of escape and attacking from three different directions so she couldn't block them all. She added a third dimension to the problem and jumped, a hundred feet into the air, watching them crash into each other, though the only result was a single super big Water Leviathan that reached up for her with two hands, clearly trying to do the usual 'clap' motion one would use when slaying a mosquito with one's bare hands.

She met both hands, one with her hand and one with her foot, and they burst into mist, she fell elbow first on the titan's face and then spun around to smack it with her fist, causing the rest of the creature to explode into quickly dispersed mist, the shockwave carrying the moisture far enough that the mist was invisible within seconds.

"Besides," she admited as she hit the ground, cratering it and causing a spiderweb of cracks to spread on the pavement, "it's not like it's any difficulty for me," she admitted, raising one of her arms and patting her bicep. "I'm pretty darn strong," she added.

Leviathan had stopped the 'punch strength' rainfall everywhere and focused big and fast droplets falling on her.

She didn't even react.

"Problem is," she admitted, "I'm too strong. These days, I can hardly punch someone without expecting them to turn into a fine pink mist. It's a damned shame," she admitted, "that now that I'm the strongest, it's all so damned boring," she added. "The monsters of this world, like you?" she asked. "Well, I'm glad to see you've been holding back. I mean, it's not just about the damage you'd cause if you used this much strength all the time," she admitted, laughing.

Leviathan's fist hit her. The blocks on both sides of her were flattened by the impact. However, when the dust cleared, one could see that she stood in the fist shaped crater like nothing had happened.

"Well, you're pretty strong and tough, aren't you?" she asked. "Sometimes, I feel like I live in a world of cardboard, where I have to hold back at any second so I don't kill someone by accident," she admitted, glaring up at Leviathan, her face turning fully serious. "But you?" she asked, her tone vicious. "You can take it, can't you, big guy?"

Covering itself in its water, Leviathan seemingly took a few steps back.

The heroine seemed to bend her knees and reach into the ankle deep water. An armband was floating right next to her. She grabbed it and put it around her own arm.

"State your name," the Armband offered.

She smiled. "Taylor," she said, and when prompted, confirmed it as instructed. She waited patiently as the instructions ended and then nodded to herself. She followed the instructions given and pressed the buttons as required for a global emergency broadcast. "Good job, everyone. You all did your best, and you can be proud. I'm sorry I'm late, but it's over now."

Some people were confused. Others were skeptical.

Leviathan didn't make a sound when it fought.

It never had. The Simurgh screamed. Behemoth roared.

But Leviathan had always been eerily silent.

Until then.

As the Mysterious Heroine leapt at the Endbringer, the first time that it ever made a sound was heard across Brockton Bay, as it screeched in terror.

* * *

(Insert Chapters of Everybody Freaking Out, Insert Chapters of Taylor One Punching the Endbringers and No Selling their powers)

* * *

Taylor smiled and wiped the blood that dripped from her lip.

"Two punches," she said, sounding almost absurdly joyful, "FINALLY! Something I couldn't kill with just one Punch!"

Doctor Mother snorted.

"Too bad he's dead now," Taylor admitted, sounding somewhat mournful.

"Only you would be sorry that the threat that was poised to eliminate trillions of humans is dead, just because you want to fight him again..."


	11. Colin Tries His Hand At Humor

**Colin Tries His Hand At Humor**

* * *

Summary: In which Director Piggot tells Armsmaster that he needs to be more approachable, sociable and basically not himself in public, and Dragon suggests he use humor to bridge the gap of his social awkwardness.

* * *

Vista looked at the toaster. It was Tinkertech. In fact, the Toaster in the Wards' common room was an actually infamous piece of Tinkertech, as it had been stripped for parts and then rebuilt at least once by every Tinker that had ever visited Brockton Bay, and it bore the marks of each and every one of them. Some said that it had originally been Deputy Director Renick's toaster, and that the tradition of stripping it for parts and then rebuilding it anew had started with Hero himself. Apparently the hero had gifted it to a then young Officer Renick when he was done with it.

More importantly, however, it had bread in it.

And right next to it was Armsmaster. Waiting.

"Sir," Vista began, "with all due respect, can I ask what you're doing here?"

They had their own toaster. Why use the Wards'?

"Making toast," he said, matter of factly.

"I am going to assume the Protectorate no longer has a toaster," Vista said.

Armsmaster nodded. That one wasn't the legacy Toaster, it was a simple toaster, so it would likely not be rebuilt.

It was very weird - usually, people had to remind Armsmaster to eat, and he usually had one or two devices he was fidgeting with.

After about thirty more seconds, the bread jumped out of the toaster - because of course it did - and Armsmaster quickly pulled a plate out of his armor, turning it concave side up so that the toast landed and all the crumbs remained on it instead of dispersing. He inspected the toast, then showed it to Vista. "Does this look good to you?"

It did, Vista mused - it looked perfect. "It looks perfect, sir," she said, somewhat weirded out.

"Excellent," he said. "Today I am Toastmaster," he said, solemnly.

Vista couldn't help it. She giggled. It hadn't even been that funny, but his face was just priceless.


	12. The Sound of Chains

**The Sound of Chains  
**

* * *

Summary: Before she drew her last breath, she cursed them all, and now something horrible stalks the nights of Brockton Bay.

* * *

Shadow Stalker let herself fall for a few moments before activating her power and letting herself transition into a gaseous state, reforming only a few steps ahead of where she'd been, having travelled enough to land safely on the roof she had jumped to.

She frowned beneath her mask.

She had not meant to murder the Hebert girl. It was not something she was entirely proud of, to be certain. Not because she had killed the girl. After all, the girl was little more than prey, little more than a worm to be stepped on, to be used as food for a predator such as herself. No, the reason she wasn't proud of it was because she had overestimated her prey, and that could get her killed. Both overestimating and underestimating her enemies was deadly, just in different ways.

It also didn't help that she was on the run right now, because of course everything had pretty much gone to shit the moment the Hebert girl died. The people Sophia had put out of everyone's misery were usually worthless lowlives, people nobody would miss. Gangbanger scum, mostly, with the occasional unaffiliated shitstain in the face of society.

Turns out that killing a white girl that's not a criminal in her school through a method that had been described as 'cruel torture' is a wee bit different, and the same people who were perfectly willing to sweep the other skeletons under the rug so long as she beat up criminals on their orders were not exactly happy with covering for her now.

So she ran. It stung to have to run with her tail between her legs, but it was either running now or being sent to juvie, and likely prison when she was done there. All the while some imposter would play the role of Shadow Stalker.

She growled low in her throat. The last person she had expected to betray her, the survivor she had found long ago... Emma, perhaps her only friend, had apparently not been as much of a Predator as Sophia thought she was. Apparently she was still weak enough to feel something for the worm. Weak enough to feel guilt over putting the garbage where it belongs.

Sophia still remembered how Emma fell into denial the very moment that someone said that Hebert wasn't breathing. Sophia had been on the run since then - since the very moment she realized Emma would fall apart like a poorly constructed house of cards. From that moment, it became evident that Emma would likely confess everything.

Sophia jumped again. She would have to leave Brockton Bay. She could say she didn't want to, she had family here - but she didn't exactly like her family, and besides, they would both be better off without each other. She didn't need them dragging her down, and they would be better off cutting ties with her entirely.

She couldn't leave today. She knew they'd be watching all the potential exit points. The PRT and Protectorate both knew who she was. She would have to lay low for a short while, likely using her power to commit petty crimes so she could eat, and as soon as the watch relaxed, she'd have a chance to escape from Brockton Bay.

She chose a particular alley, one that she remembered well because one of the walls lead to an empty room that was sealed off except for a few windows way too small for even a child to crawl in. The building had once been a factory of some sort, and this appeared to be some sort of manager's room. The lack of food present meant there weren't really any pests, and she could store a lot of spare things for herself. Bolts, a spare costume, medical supplies and a mattress.

She'd be safe there for a while. As soon as night fell, she'd have the opportunity to go out for food. In a way, it was sort of refreshing and even exhilarating. She was a true predator now, going out to hunt for food and prey, unburdened and unfettered, along against the world.

She chose to ignore the great part of her that realized that she was thoroughly and absolutely screwed. The part of her that knew to be afraid was ignored. She was Sophia Hess, Shadow Stalker, Hunter, Predator, not someone to be scared just because she no longer had support from the authorities.

She took a nap.

Night fell some time before she woke up. An alarm clock would be nice, but not only could she not afford the noise it would produce, she also couldn't exactly afford to keep a cellphone where the PRT could track it. She had smashed both of hers already, and made sure that every piece of electronics was ruined through a bath, then tossed the pieces in separate places.

Never too safe with Armsmaster's bullshit Tinkertech.

She had also discarded the pieces of her costume that she could, until she could throw away the rest by replacing it with the clean spare from her hideout. She had thrown out everything, including her underwear. Again, never too safe with Armsmaster's bullshit Tinkertech.

She had the night's plan ready. She would hit a super market for food and other useful supplies and a clothing store.

She used her gaseous form to go through the brick wall that separated her from the alley and, making sure none could see her, she decided to make sure that the entrance was hidden from prying eyes. She'd need to mark it on the other side as well, just to be safe. She hadn't really thought of using this place as an actual hideout.

"See? What did I tell you? Right where I said she'd be."

That voice... she knew it well.

"Tattletale," Shadow Stalker growled, turning around to look at the purple-costume wearing supervillain. Next to her was a boy - no, a man, she mused - wearing biker leathers and a skull patterned bike helmet. Behind them was a boy in ren-faire reject gear, idly twirling a mace - scepter? hard to tell in the crappy lighting - that Shadow Stalker knew was a taser in disguise.

Behind him was a monstroisty of exposed muscle, bone plates and spikes that might have at one point been a dog.

"Don't bother going through the walls," Tattletale said. "We've come prepared. We want to talk."

Shadow Stalker growled. "Then talk," she said, gruffly.

"Naughty naughty Shadow Stalker did a bad," Tattletale said, her voice in a sing-song tone that nearly boiled Shadow Stalker's blood. "Killing an innocent little girl like that? Just to prove that you're a big girl!" she said, her tone turning nasty. "Honestly, I have half a mind to just empty a couple magazines in your skull and call it a day."

There really wasn't much she could answer to that. Tattletale had all the cards.

"But you're lucky. You get to live today and, who knows, maybe you'll even get to escape. Because the big badass predator is a scaredy kitten and running from the consequences of her own actions," Tattletale said.

"Tattletale, make it short," Grue said.

Nodding, the blonde looked at Sophia with extreme contempt. "You've got one shot. Two thirty AM, there'll be a van waiting for you. Pull your big girl panties on - even if you're not wearing any - and get to it," she said, sticking her hand inside one of her pouches and pulling out a cellphone. She tossed it at the former hero. "You'll get the address from that."

"... What the hell is that noise?"

It was the ren-faire reject. Regent, if Sophia's memory served.

Tattletale's lower face spoke of annoyance. "Regent," so she was right, "what do you mean?"

"You can't hear it? It's like someone's dragging chains against the floor," the boy said. "Grue can you- well, fuck it, you're wearing a helmet so you probably can't."

Sophia blinked. "I hear it," she said.

The sound of chains. Chains, hitting together, chains, dragging against the floor. Metal on metal, metal on pavement, metal on concrete, metal on brick.

"It's getting louder," Tattletale mused. "I hear it too," she added. "... Does anyone else feel kind of weird..?"

"It's like there's a pressure in the air..." Grue muttered.

"This is what being under your power feels like," Regent said. "But this shit is starting to creep me out. What the hell's going on?"

"It's likely we're under attack. There are estimates for about two dozen independants, three of which are violent vigilantes, that are currently running loose in Brockton Bay," Tattletale said. "It could be any of them."

"Or none of them, it could be someone new," Regent said, his tone jovial despite the situation. "You think they're coming for Couch Ruiner here?"

Sophia blinked. "What?" she asked, accusingly.

"You ruined our couch, it was a great couch," Regent said.

"It's not important. What's important is that we're gone. Run or hide, I don't care which, you got one shot, and if you want to do me a favor, fuck it up and run into the empire," Tattletale said, before she turned around and went for the massive dog.

The sound of chains was getting pretty annoying, Sophia mused. She wouldn't run. She had her crossbows, she would face whatever was coming head on.

As soon as the Undersiders were all mounted on the massive dog, however, an incredibly loud gunshot rang out and half the dog's side exploded in a shower of blood and gore, knocking the dog flat on its side and tossing the mounted villains into a nearby wall. They all grunted as they tried to lessen the impact.

The alley was filled with mist not moments after, and the sound of chains increased in tempo and volume.

The Undersiders seemingly saw something and scrambled to get out of the way. They seemed to grab what appeared to be a wounded dog of regular size from the corpse of the bigger dog and then took off running.

Sophia was petrified and stuck to the ground. Another loud gunshot rang, and all three of the Undersiders just fell on the ground.

She didn't know if they were unconscious or dead, but they weren't moving.

Sophia opened the eyes that she didn't know she had closed, and she looked at the abomination that stood at the mouth of the alley.

It had no legs. It floated on fluttering coat tails. Coat tails that were a faded black and covered in old blood. It stood, or floated, perhaps eight feet tall. Its face... it had no face. It had a bloodied sheet that might've once been pure white.

In its left hand, it waved about a revolver, barrel as long as Sophia's arm.

Its right hand was brought forward. Sophia nearly went cross eyed as she focused on the massive revolver's barrel right in front of her face.

"Ssssoooophiiiaaaaa."

She knew that voice.

And soon enough, she knew no more.


	13. Like Metal Putty In Her Hands

**Like Metal Putty In Her Hands  
**

* * *

Summary: Taylor saw herself as more of a General than a Queen. With a perchant for white and a knack for invention, she might just have what it takes to make it in the world of capes.

* * *

Taylor smiled a warm and pleasant smile as she slowly and methodically engaged in mechanical labor, adjusting nuts and bolts and pushing metallic sheets into place. Opposite her, seated on the table and looking somewhat amused, her father observed as she used her right index finger's nail as a screwdriver. They hadn't even been long enough to do that yesterday.

Danny was also sure she had never actually painted them, but they were still a pearly white, looking impeccable despite the fact that Taylor was doing things that should result in her fingernails breaking all over the place. Then again, he mused as he saw her bend a two centimeters thick sheet of steel like it were paper, her nails were the least bullshit part of her, all things considered.

The thing she was making was roughly the shape and size of, of all things, a small dog. A small dog with stubby, short legs. And also a face comprised mostly of a pair of big metallic jaws. She was almost done, and had been working on it most of the morning. She should be in school, he mused, but what use is school when compared to what a Tinker can do just from their power alone?

He didn't know, but he wanted to find out what she was making, and she had also ignored him utterly when he tried to tell her to go to school. Fortunately, he himself had the day off as a result of the building his office was in being fumigated, so he could stay and watch over her as she worked. Soon enough, the dog-like machine was complete.

Taylor's smile was dazzling as she leaned back. "There we go," she said, looking at where its tail was and giving it what appeared to be an experimental tug. The bright white star at the center of the machine's face, just above its jaws, came to life and it began to move, giving out a low, metallic hum as its pieces were put to the test.

Danny wondered how two watches, four double A batteries and a potato of all things were powering this thing, but her wasn't going to check. He also didn't know why she gave it a mouth, he knew she hadn't put in any speakers for noisemaking.

"What is this, Taylor?" Danny asked.

"This is called an Eater," she said. "Well, it's a... prototype, based on what I had on hand. Also sorry I killed the Toaster. And the Control Remote. And your toothbrush. And-"

"I took stock of all the stuff you used," Danny said, raising her hand, "That's not important. We can get new stuff. What does it do? It eats stuff?"

"Yes, though that's not its real purpose," Taylor said. "It eats basically anything and poops it out," she said, gesturing to its back end, "as a metallic slime that can be shaped. It should be, if the steel I experimented with earlier is any indication, way tougher and easier to use than stripping old equipment for its parts. Also sorry about the boiler, too."

"It was old, it was due a replacement anyway," Danny said. "But Taylor, if I'm getting this right, you basically built this so it could make that metal slime thing, right?"

"Pretty much, yeah. I can shape that into basically anything I need. Starting with more Eaters, of course."

"Huh. Well, I don't think it's a good idea to start feeding everything in the house to these guys," Danny stated.

"Don't be ridiculous, dad. They can eat garbage and scrap," Taylor said, shrugging. "I'll just go on a dumpster cleaning spree. Maybe I'll clean out a junkyard or two."

"I would recommend against that one. I've hired out workers to the PRT and Protectorate - apparently Tinkers are always finding valuable crap in junkyards," he stated. "They always need someone to actually move the crap, and I'm just happy I can find work for at least a few guys."

"Sounds annoying," Taylor said. "Dumpsters it is, then. I think first I'll make a new eater, then scrap this one. It's very inefficient and there's too much loss of energy and matter, but once I've got a proper one, I'll replace most of the stuff I used from here."

"Sounds good," Danny said. "Do you need a truck to help carry the stuff?"

Some would ask Danny how he was being so calm about his daughter being a Tinker, arguably the most endangered classification of Superhero, and how he was actually offering to help her. Well, he'd had enough time. Taylor was in the hospital recovering for a week, and she had told him straight up on the very first day that she had powers, and she could build stuff.

She was also becoming slightly stronger every day, and that wasn't just her recovery speaking - By the time they left the hospital, Taylor had been strong enough to lift the bed she'd been in. That wasn't counting the outward appearance changes. She had gone from a normal teenaged girl's skin, with all the acne, tiny scars and the odd spot of discoloration, to a completely flawless and healthy skin that Danny was sure was unnaturally perfect. Women wore tons of makeup to achieve a similar effect, and for her, it was just how she looked now.

"It would help, I suppose, if we get far more than I intended to originally. It would lower the amount of trips I would have to make," Taylor conceded.

Danny smiled. Just because he had made his peace with his daughter being a Tinker and thus in danger, and being far too independant to even consider joining the Wards, didn't mean he was okay with her putting herself in danger. Sure, he'd have to reveal her status to a few guys in order to haul loads of the stuff she was going to make, and likely call in a favor or two... but he had people he could trust, he had favors up the wazoo and he had a daughter to protect.

He would do the absolute best he could to help and protect her, even if all he could do was this, he'd do his damn best to protect his little girl.

* * *

"Do not mess this up."

Coil hung up and Lisa fell back on her comfortable computer chair. She was no gamer, not even close, but she certainly enjoyed the luxury of the 'gamer' chair. She still thought it looked like it should be on a car, but she couldn't deny that it was incredibly comfortable for long periods of computer work.

She laid her cellphone on her cluttered desk and looked at the leftmost screen. She had only set up three, as it was all she would need for the time being and while her computer was powerful, she was not going to go to the pointless excess of having more than three screens. She had only had nine once, and that was when she was setting up a constant surveillance network for a specific job.

No changes, she mused. Her target was a young girl once more. The last one had been Spitfire, and their failure to recruit the pyrokinetic wound up with her falling in Faultline's clutches. All because Bitch was, well, a bitch about recruitment. Didn't help that Alec didn't care either way and wound up making the situation worse. A damned shame - Lisa could see the many ways in which they could've used Spitfire's power in some of their more showy break in jobs. Hell, with Brian's power masking her, she could actually do stealth missions even if she had to set every door on her way on fire.

This one was a bit of a different beast from Spitfire, though. Ultimately, Spitfire had been a lost girl looking for a place to belong, or rather, a lone cape trying not to be caught alone by the less savory 'recruiters', and who had a pretty bad opinion of the PRT, Protectorate and the justice system in general. A relatively easy recruit, if Bitch hadn't been a member of the team.

This one, though... A Tinker would put the Undersiders on the map, politically speaking. Tinkers were known to be amongst the most bullshit of capes for a very good reason. True, Tattletale's Thinker 7 rating made the Undersiders a spooky opponent for most smart people, but they were not known as heavy hitters, they were known as escape artists, as infiltration experts and as thieves. Sure, Bitch's dogs, when fully grown, were pretty dangerous, but it had only taken one fight with Armsmaster to show that for all their strength, they did not compare to the real heavy hitters of Brockton Bay.

However, it was well known that given enough time, Tinkers could become very, very big threats, and Coil had the resources to feed a Tinker anything they might need.

Lisa sighed. It would be problematic. The girl had a living parent, her father, and it seemed they had a pretty sweet relationship, all things considered. Said father was a spokesperson and head of hiring for the Dockworkers' Union, and he was very well respected and liked by the workers due to his tireless hard work. Lisa ignored her power feeding her the reasons why the man had thrown himself into his work.

Sure, it was good to know that the two were likely recently patching up their relationship after their mutual grief over the passing of the girl's mother nearly destroyed it, but it wasn't what she needed, and she didn't exactly want to destroy the girl's relationship with her father. Sure, she'd stick out like a sore thumb if she was the only one to have at least one parent that isn't awful, but she was probably way more stable than the rest of her team because of that.

Lisa watched as the girl crouched down next to what appeared to be metallic puppies - they were even sort of cute, like how a pug should be ugly as sin from description but somehow winds up being kinda cute in person - and gave them some orders that Lisa couldn't understand very well, though her power informed her that it wasn't the camera, it was likely gibberish that only she and her machines understood.

Clever - if you give your machines voice commands, best to make it a language only you know so others can't imitate your voice to give commands.

The metal pugs all stood straight at attention while she spoke, then they seemingly launched into the air and dove into an open dumpster. Lisa saw them, saw what they were doing, and laughed. Sure, it was how they gathered materials, but she liked the idea of a cape who went around basically recycling people's garbage for them.

The metallic poop was gathered and put in a large barrel. It was half filled by an entire dumpster's worth of garbage. The blue plastic barrel was sealed and then hoisted onto the back of a truck by a pair of large men - dockworkers, if Lisa had to guess. When they were having trouble, the girl laughed and approached them. The two moved aside and let her help with the last push to put it fully in place, next to four more barrels that Lisa suspected were empty.

There were several more videos like this one, showing the rest of their trip for material gathering. Coil's men had caught all of it. She wound up with five barrels of the liquid metal stuff that the metal pugs pooped out.

Lisa wondered how she was going to pull this one off. At least she didn't have to worry about Bitch threatening her - some of the videos showed that the girl was a brute, and given how easily she had lifted that dumpster, still full at the time, she was a strong enough one that she had nothing to worry about from Bitch's dogs. Bitch might be aggressive and dumb, but she wasn't insane enough to risk getting into a fistfight with Glory Girl or enemies like her.

Maybe she'd get the hint this time.

* * *

Brian did not know what to make of their recruitment target.

He had half expected her to be racist. She dressed mostly in white, with black accents. Her monochrome clothes and the fact that their meeting was over tea were just the tip of the iceberg of weirdness.

For starters, she introduced herself freely. When told about how giving her name was bad, she had merely smiled and told them she didn't care. When they had said that her father would be in danger, she laughed and told them that anyone who would attack him would be in danger instead. Fair enough, she was a Tinker and likely able to set up defenses to protect her father.

As for concerns of her life being irrevocably changed by revealing her super powers, she didn't even understand the idea, it looked like. That, or she cared so little about her 'civilian' life that she didn't even give it the slightest consideration. Brian didn't know whether to be impressed or shocked that she didn't care to hide her identity in the least.

The tea was pretty nice, he had to admit.

Still, they made the offer, gave her the two thousand dollars that their benefactor had given them as a sort of peace offering, and talked about the benefits. Brian wondered what the point was - only heroes ever revealed their identities, villains had to deal with Law Enforcement after all. When he decided to just tell her this concern, she waved it off.

Ultimately, she declined their offer and returned the money.

She had simply said that she needed not teammates, but servants, and she was working on that last one.

A bit spooky, Brian thought, but he was honestly glad that their business with her was over. There was something that was just unsettling about her, her smile and her disposition. She was pretty, unnaturally so. Lisa had even mentioned that she was wearing no form of makeup that her or her power could detect. She wasn't wearing 'sexy' clothing, just a white dress and a small half-jacket with black stripes that ran from cuff to collar. The only 'symbol' she had on her was a black star on her jacket's left breast.

Not exactly a costume, but enough to be a trademark look.

He was sure to remember her, because he knew he'd be seeing her again, but he wished he didn't have to. She creeped him out a little.

Throughout all the conversation, he swore that she was evaluating them, and for some reason, he had the feeling that he, Alec and Lisa all came out lacking.

* * *

Taylor sat on the shoulder of a ten foot tall bipedal monstrosity with what appeared to be a six foot long canon in place of a face. Its arms were tipped by massive wall-like stubs, and it had a relatively thin body with a tail for the purpose of balance. It was covered in red armored plates, including its spinning mouth, that only left small parts of its body, black as night, beneath.

Its 'mouth' was spinning.

"What do you think, Dad? This is a purely combat model!" she said, giving her father a smile. "It's a bit bulky," she admitted, "and slow, but it's meant to tank hits anyway. Not as much as a proper wall, naturally, but it's pretty durable."

"It certainly looks impressive," her father said. "Does it shoot something?"

"It does," Taylor said, pointing with her hand at a tree. "Obliterate," she ordered.

The large robot took aim and after seemingly a moment's charge, it fired off a purple beam. It annihilated the tree.

"It can also do this," she said, moving around her arm and pointing at a cat that was running away from the area following the noise. "Stun!" she shouted.

It only took an instant this time, and the large robot's mouth recoiled as it fired an invisible projectile. The cat then seized in place, tipping over.

Danny had a few moments for which he only blinked. "Is... is it okay?"

After ten seconds, however, the cat got up and fled, as if pursued by a million dogs.

Danny sighed in relief. "How do you call it?"

"Big Mouth," Taylor said, matter-of-factly. "I was between that and Mega Mouth," she admitted. "But I think I've got a better design in mind for an upgraded version, I'll call that one Mega Mouth," she said. "Anyway, I really think I should get started on a Generator..."

Danny frowned. "Are you making an army? What for?"

"I dunno. Maybe I'll take over the world. I'm sure I can do better than whoever's the current shadowy organization secretly pulling the strings," Taylor said. "Oh, and if you're listening, shadowy organization running the world? I'm coming for you. I can be plied with Ice Cream though."

Danny considered the whole thing hilarious until someone delivered three buckets of Ice Cream, all flavors Taylor liked, with a note that read "please don't kill us all", which kinda creeped him out, but she thought it was funny. Maybe it was a prank from Taylor herself. Danny certainly hoped it was.

* * *

"What is this."

It wasn't a question, it was an order. A weirdly worded order, but an order nonetheless.

"I don't know," Dragon said, evenly. "But I can make a guess."

"Then do it," Piggot said.

"Based on observation, I believe it's a production facility of some sort. It seems that the smaller, dog-like robots devour the junk and trash around the, we'll call it a 'factory', produce some sort of material from it and then they dump it back on the factory, which then uses the material to produce more robots," Dragon said.

"Oh, wonderful, I have mechanical Nilbog in my city," Piggot said. "We're going to have to nip this in the bud before we step hip-deep in shit," she said.

Armsmaster frowned, then looked at Piggot. "I assume I will not be allowed to investigate and analyze the technology before it's destroyed?"

"Naturally," Piggot said. "Shit this dangerous is not something I want on anyone's hands, even yours," she said.

* * *

Armsmaster and Miss Militia had been chosen to confront the unknown Tinker who had settled on the Boat Graveyard the day before, and try to resolve the situation as peacefully as possible.

The initial talks could be summed up as "stop what you're doing" "i don't want to"

So we'll just do that and move on.

"We will be forced to utilize force and bring you in," Armsmaster said.

Miss Militia nodded. "I really would rather not," she added.

"You're welcome to try," the Tinker, seated on what appeared to be a garden chair made of crystalline white material, said, sipping tea from a porcelain cup. She also had a small porcelain plate on her left hand, and in front of her was a garden table with the kettle and chocolate chip cookies. There were also crumbs aplenty. It was a weird thing to arrive on a Tinker's 'lab' just as she was having an afternoon snack.

Armsmaster walked up to her. "Are you not going to resist?"

The Tinker gave him a beatific smile. "Would you sit down for tea with me?" she asked.

"I am here to arrest you," he said.

"Very well, I believe your company would be droll and boring anyway," she said. "Big Mouth, stun," she said.

Armsmaster had a moment's panic after her command to try to move and stop her, but just as he started to move, he was hit by something, he wasn't sure what, and then he fell to the ground, still like something frozen by Clockblocker.

Miss Militia instantly drew a weapon and pointed it at the Tinker. "Surrender, or I'll shoot!"

It was a small caliber handgun. Nine milimeters. More than enough to kill.

"Fire away," the Tinker said. "It won't do anything, she said, sipping a little more tea. "I trust your aim is good enough to hit me and not my clothes, or my tea set? The last thing I'd want is to have to fix them," she said.

Miss Militia frowned. However, she didn't back down.

Armsmaster got back on his feet after seven seconds, and quickly withdrew, not willing to risk approaching again. They still didn't know where the shot'd come from, since by the time he felt the hit, he was already paralyzed and couldn't tell. Plus, it hit his armor, and it had dampened the blow enough that he hadn't even realized it was some sort of projectile until he recovered and saw there was a small hole in his chest plate.

It allowed him to theorize that the shot had come from behind the Tinker, but not much more than that.

"Are you not going to fire?" the Tinker said, tilting her head to the side. "Maybe we should not make threats we are not willing to follow through with," she said. "Now, I will have to ask you to leave. Generator, Death Jacket, times four" she said.

There were four flashes of pink light, and then four bee-like robots, roughly the size of a grown man's torso, were floating about.

"Maybe you would be more comfortable fighting these?" the Tinker asked. "Oh, they'll try to avoid killing you - it would end my fun much too early - but they'll still hurt, so... Entertain me."

The Death Jackets began to zoom about. Miss Militia and Armsmaster spread as the bee-like robots let loose a hail of red colored spheres, which left spherical craters in whatever they hit.

They moved fast and they flew, but they had to close in since their aim was awful, which allowed Armsmaster to cleave one of them as it tried to close in to use its stinger. Miss Militia pulled out a large rocket launcher, and used the Death Jacket's own stupidity against it, as it stopped to shoot her and she predicted where it would by hidding in an overturned boat and leaving it only one avenue of attack.

Armsmaster was forced to dodge as the other Death Jacket assigned to him began to utilize its stinger to launch purple beams that disintegrated large amounts of the junk and destroyed boats it hit. Fortunately, it was too busy doing that to notice the heroes were converging in one spot. Miss Militia was being chased by her own Death Jacket, since it realized that she couldn't take aim and hit it if it got all up in her face. Soon enough the heroes met in the middle and changed targets. The Death Jacket needed a couple of seconds to fire its beam, enough for Miss Militia to hit it with an anti-tank rifle that tore it apart. Meanwhile, the Death Jacket chasing Miss Militia tried to win a melee fight with Armsmaster's halberd, and all it got for its trouble was being cleaved in half and then set on fire, at which point it exploded.

"Bravo, bravo," the Tinker said, setting down her teacup on her table and giving them a few courtesy claps. "And it only took you three minutes," she said. "Very well, you might be more interesting than the rabble that came to bother me earlier," she said. "Now, round two. Generator, Chicken, times two, Shot Man," she said.

The flash of pinkish light lasted slightly longer this time, and it produced a gigantic hand on what appeared to be four tiny wheels and two robots that were mostly legs and ended in a waist with eyes. Also, both of the leg robots had a giant syringe behind their left leg.

The two leg robots were hopping about, delivering devastating kicks. The hand was shooting large pink spheres like the Death Jackets, and one of its sides was so thickly armored that Armsmaster had to resort to a plasma torch to cut through it, and even then, it was so slow going that it wasn't worth the effort or fuel expenditure. Mundane weaponry didn't even scratch it.

It took a lot of effort, and Armsmaster took a nasty spinning kick to the middle that had sent him flying and wound up with him leaving a dent on a nearby yacht's hull.

"Ah, you truly are better than the rabble," the Tinker said, as soon as they got back to her. She was clearly amused. "You can retreat now, I will not pursue you," she said. "Or you can choose to continue. The next round will be a bit more difficult."

"How long do you plan on doing this?!" Armsmaster said. "We've called reinforcements, your game will be over soon."

The Tinker laughed. "If more participants come, then I will increase the number of adversaries that they face," she said. "Who knows? Gather enough flies and I may swat them out of the air myself," she said, her tone light and amused. "Round three. Big Mouth, Evil Dice times two. Chop chop, Generator."

She was humming as they fought a large creature that looked like someone had mounted a cannon on a bear's face, then covered the whole thing with metallic plates in red, and two flying cubes. It was long. It was painful. Armsmaster nearly had one of his arms broken and Miss Militia had to resort to deploying a high calliber minigun, but they eventually emerged triumphant.

"Amazing," the Tinker said, clapping for them as she set half a chocolate chip cookie on the tray that held the rest. She then dusted herself off and stood up, patting down her dress to ensure there were no more crumbs. "I am impressed with your persistence. If you win this round, I shall do the honors of engaging you in combat myself. Generator, Eater, Times Four," she ordered.

Four of the 'gatherer' robots came out. They destroyed them easily. They were then replaced by four Death Jackets. As soon as those were done, they were replaced by two 'chicken' robots. Which were then replaced by two big hands. Finally, their last opponent was a Big Mouth accompanied by a pair of 'Evil Dice' that were replaced every time they were destroyed.

By the time they were done, they were exhausted.

"Now, I shall allow you one more chance to retreat. Generator, deploy medical facilities," she said.

A flash of pinkish light created a glowing blue pillar that sat on a tripod. It kinda looked like the inside of a nuclear reactor, somewhat.

"Touch it, and it will heal you," she said.

They stood still.

"If you do not, I shall fight you as you are. Even healthy, you will lose. If you do not heal yourselves, you would be boring me intentionally. I would not appreciate that," she said.

Grimacing, Miss Militia nodded. Her fingers were already starting to get stiff from an attack she'd blocked earlier, soon she would be useless. It was better to deal with it now. She seemed like she was enjoying the game too much to break character now.

She put her hand on the blue part of the pillar, and she soon felt a million times better. "I... you were telling the truth."

"Of course," the Tinker said. "I have no motives to lie. Armsmaster, heal yourself. Then we will make combat."

He did.

The next time he woke up, Armsmaster looked to Hannah, not far from him in the medical bay, seated on her own bed. "What happened?"

"We lost. Three point six seconds, from what Velocity could see. Oh, we got reinforcements, too," she said. "The entire protectorate wound up there."

"Did we capture her?" Armsmaster asked. "I assume from the fact that we're the only ones here that the others had a better time."

"Well..."

Miss Militia was hesitant.

* * *

"Oh, come on, it's just a cute girl Tinker, how dangerous could she be?" Assault asked.

* * *

Armsmaster's palm met his exposed chin. "How poorly did it go?" he asked, wishing he could facepalm properly through the mask.

* * *

Dauntless stabbed her through the chest. He'd thought she would dodge. They all thought she would. She had moved fast as shit, fast enough to dodge Velocity. She should've dodged!

* * *

"Tell me we didn't accidentally kill her," Armsmaster said.

Miss Militia grimaced. "No. We didn't. We learned something worse. Dauntless stabbed her clean through and it didn't produce a single drop of blood. The moment the arc lance was out, there was no wound whatsoever. She regenerates so fast that we literally couldn't hurt her even when we stopped holding back. I see now why she was unconcerned - I shot her with a .50 cal bullet, fired from an anti-tank rifle. It didn't even leave a mark."

"Fuck," Armsmaster stated. "We've got a seriously heavy hitter here. What about out of town reinforcements?"

"Requests have been sent. She's got an A on her for now, potential for S depending on how many robots she can control at once.

"The situation is just wonderful," Armsmaster stated. "So how did it end?"

"We retreated. Since we couldn't hurt her, we destroyed as many robots as we could and left. The Generator was basically impervious to just about everything we threw at it. I think I managed to scratch it, somewhat, with a HEAT round."

"... I was not aware you could transmute your power into something like that," Armsmaster stated, evenly.

"Neither was I. When I said that Anti-Tank wasn't doing anything, Assault asked if I could do a Tank gun instead. Turns out, I can. Doesn't mean I can lift it, but apparently my power recognizes a Tank's turret as a portable weapon. I need to experiment more with heavy weaponry like this. Might find a bit more use for Endbringer battles this way, at least I'll be able to deploy more kinds of exotic ammunition."

"I'll get to work on variants, then," Armsmaster said.

"We'll take her down next time," Miss Militia promised.

They would try at the end of the week, this time all deployed together, with as much equipment as they could carry.

They lasted two minutes. And the fight was one minute and a half of them showing her their new weaponry.

* * *

That's all she wrote.

Anyway, this is basically just a few snippets of a story that would have Taylor slowly becoming more and more like White Rock Shooter. If you don't know who she is... I wouldn't blame you. Black Rock Shooter is obscure to begin with, and the PSP game even more so than the anime or the character herself. I'm not gonna launch into an explanation, google it, but point is, this is Taylor slowly becoming WRS. Eventually she would lose her empathy and care for none but herself, but she's still a couple lifetimes away from becoming like that.

At this point she still wants to have fun in a safe and clean way. She's a bit mean, but since nobody cares about her but her father, why should she care about anyone but her father? Hence her not giving a fuck.

So she's OP as fuck but willing to play ball. Cauldron likes her a lot, because she wants to preserve humanity since they're fun to keep around.


	14. Scales of Silver

**Scales of Silver**

* * *

Summary: Daggerlike teeth, steel-rending claws and a lifespan measured in millenia... all of that? Completely meaningless. Taylor was definitely a much bigger fan of the ability to fly. Life as a young adult is very different for a human than it is for a Dragon.

* * *

Brockton Bay was coming very close to being renamed Dragon's Bay.

It had all started when the Dragon of Kyushu, Lung, had decided to move over from wherever his former stomping grounds had been to Brockton Bay, following the chaos resultant of Marquis' birdcaging. Soon enough, he had established himself as a power in the city by fending off the Protectorate as well as the racist Empire 88, then proceeding to grab all the small Asian gangs and forcing them all into unity under his rule, solving the issue of their own grievances with each other through sheer force of personality and intimidation. Ironically, under his rule, one could see the Japanese, Koreans and Chinese get along, even if forcibly, for the first time in centuries.

The second 'Dragon' to move semi-permanently into Brockton Bay had been the cape aptly named Dragon herself, the greatest Tinker in the world since the passing of Hero, who justified her name with reptilian mech suits though her projected Avatar was a very human looking woman. It was a very well known secret that she was in the process of courting Armsmaster, leader of the Protectorate ENE, something that clearly required incredible amounts of effort and time, as the man was known to be denser than white dwarf star matter.

It was not uncommon to see Dragon's mechs in Brockton Bay, and it was even more common to see Lung shapeshifting into a half-dragon monstrosity.

However, those two were 'false', for lack of a better term, dragons.

Indeed, there's only one 'real' dragon in Brockton Bay. Fortunately, her kind is always Lawful Good.

* * *

My skin is uncomfortable.

I wonder, is this what people with gender issues feel like? As if their body is an ill-fitting sock? You know the kind. I would say a stocking, but I have never really worn those. A combination of psychological torture and self consciousness about my appearance meant that I'd never wear a skirt or anything of the sort to show off my legs, much less wear stockings to highlight them.

On the one hand, that sucks.

On the other, I never had to shave my legs because of that, so I've got that going for me, which is nice, I suppose.

Well, I don't need to shave my legs ever again. Or take care of my hair anymore. I kind of miss it, but it's nothing I can't deal with. Besides, I can always dedicate my free time to grooming something else.

I ran my hands through my hair with clumsy fingers, before I regained full control of them. It takes me a little while to regain perfect motor control, that's good to know. By my estimate, it's been ten minutes... yeah, I can already feel myself adapting.

My skin is still uncomfortable, but I don't think I'll trip by just trying to take a few steps anymore. I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror.

Yeah the eyes are going to be a problem, I reckon. I could disguise them. I know I can.

But... I'll deal with that as it comes.

* * *

"I heard that when she tried to offer herself to the football team, they told her they'd rather fuck the cleaning equipment!"

What a droll 'insult'. Then again, teenaged girls seem to measure their worth entirely by how much the men around them want them. That's quite pathetic - there's so much more they could do. So much more they could seek recognition through, but I suppose they don't really want to put in the effort to be something, instead they'd rather coast through life on their looks. Bah, unlike me, they have to spend hours to keep their looks up, if they just put that effort into improving themselves as people, mayhaps they'd be worthy of the time needed to smack them down.

Then again, I mused, girls aren't exactly special. I know for a fact that Greg Veder receives from the boys the treatment I receive from the girls, teased and made fun of because he is a charmless buffoon and a creeper that no girl wants anywhere near close to them. I used to think he was a creepy weirdo, myself, but now I just think him pathetic, like I used to be. It's far easier to be sympathetic of him when I don't allow another's preconceived notions to dictate how I see the world.

I shook my head. Their insults continued, but I merely offered them a smile. I can tell it unnerves them. I know I've fixed all the little imperfections in my skin, and I know that I altered my face just ever so slightly - my lips are no longer too wide, my eyes don't bug out. It's enough that they'll probably think it's just make up, that must be kind of distracting for them.

With books in hand, I moved beyond the useless harpies and went on my way to my first class of the day.

As I rounded a corner, however, I saw Sophia Hess walking in the opposite section.

"Hey there, Hebert. I figured you wouldn't show your ugly face around school," she said, "but you just never learn, do you? Nobody wants you here, so make like a bookworm and burrow out of sight."

A worm?

Hardly!

Sophia is one of the few humans in this building I would take notice of even if she hadn't been my bully. She is evil. She positively stinks of evil and aggression and hatred and anger. Before, I believed this, but I just did because she is a bully and I was a teenaged idiot myself.

Now I can tell. Her rotten self offends my instincts at a very basic level, and her continued existence is an affront and insult to my sensibilities. Every time she opens her mouth to shower insults upon my person, I have the urge to let loose the leash and tear her apart.

A normal cape would likely think to themselves that they need to remain hidden. That they need to keep a lid on their powers. Hide their identity to keep their loved ones safe.

Sophia Hess does not intimidate me, and neither does the possibility of her possibly hunting down or harming my father. And even if she were to out me as what I am, what difference would that make? Nobody would believe her because of her own lies, because she has convinced everyone that I am a worthless worm, so there's no way this worm could be a great Wyrm.

"Even colored contacts, it's almost like you're trying to look respectable!"

Oh, while I was internally monologuing, it appears as if we've gotten Sophia's girlfriend to join in. A being just as rotten and evil as Sophia herself. Perfect.

"Let's drop this farcical fabrication," I said, a too-wide smile splitting my face. My body and form shifted. It's a good thing that I won't need to fight right now, because even this change is making me feel more than a little clumsy. I let my lips curl back into a snarl and brought one of my claws, almost as if to pick between teeth I knew to be razor sharp.

The both of them were stunned into silence.

When it seemed like they were about to bolt, I took a deep breath and let loose a very weak form of my Breath Weapon.

They were both forced to their knees, unable to escape as they wished to.

"Oh, look, a pair of perfectly helpless little girls, face to face with their possible doom," I began, letting my form collapse back into the guise of a human. "Now, I'm going to make something perfectly clear to the two of you. Evil such as you offends me on a basic level," I said. "However," I began, crouching so I met them at eye level, "I am a good and lawful citizen," I explained, "and the laws of this land tell me that I should not destroy your taint where it rots."

"Y-Y-You're-"

It was hard for them to talk, with their muscles seizing and spasming, refusing to obey their commands, causing them to whimper in noticeable pain.

"I think we can come to an understanding, yes? You become good little girls and I don't eat you. How's that for a deal, huh?"

* * *

"Well, they had far more balls than I expected them to, I'll admit that much," I said, my eyes closed. "Take a seat," I said, my tone firm.

I was half expecting the Protectorate to show up at home. I was also half... if it's half again is it quarter? fuck it, I'll run with it! I was quarter expecting them to show up when dad was at home.

They didn't do the latter, instead, they seemed to pick a time when I was alone at home. Also Armsmaster cuts a rather impressive figure in his power armor.

"Miss Hebert, I would assume," Armsmaster said, evenly. "I will pass on the seat. I don't think your chairs could withstand my armor's weight."

"You know what they say about assuming," I replied, giving him a disarming smile. "What can I do for you?"

"You threatened two teenaged girls with your parahuman ability to, and I quote, eat them," Armsmaster stated. "And it's clear you were expecting us."

"I had contingencies in case they did," I admitted, freely. "Are you aware that the girls who I threatened, and yes I do admit to doing so, are evil scum who seek their thrills by victimizing those below them in the social ladder?"

"They are teenaged girls," he insisted.

"So am I, but you're certainly not looking at me like one," I said, smiling. I'm trying to turn on the cheek, because lying out of my ass is fun. I should do this more often. "You assumed they were right from the start, and came here for the sole purpose of arresting me. I must admit, I'm honored that someone like myself rates the very leader of the Protectorate in this region."

He raised a hand and tapped the side of his helmet. His face was then covered by a plastic-looking facemask. He tapped it again, and it retracted into his helm. "We're not taking chances here."

"That's adorable," I said, smiling. "That's not how my breath weapon works," I said.

"I'm surprised you're volunteering information, though you will forgive me if I don't trust you," Armsmaster said, evenly.

"Put up your mask and I'll show you," I said.

He frowned. "Is that a threat?"

"It's an offer of demonstration. It should go a long way to prove my honesty. Consider it a proof of character," I said. "Naturally, you are free to refuse it."

"I think you should understand at this point that I have to take you in," Armsmaster said.

"I am a good and lawful citizen, but just because I have no desire to disobey the law does not mean I will be a pawn to unjust and corrupt authority," I said. "You have one chance. Do not disappoint me."

* * *

"How disappointing," I muttered, as my bishop put Dragon's King in check.

"Oh?" Dragon's avatar raised one eyebrow. "So confident. You truly think I won't be able to turn this situation around?"

"No," I admitted, "I'm talking about myself. Five moves, right?"

"Indeed," Dragon said, freely. "I'm surprised you see it coming so far ahead. I was told you were a beginner."

"Ever since the event of my trigger," I admitted, "I know that I've been feeling smarter. It's... strange," I admitted. "It's like I've got a completely different perspective on a lot of things. I used to take everything so very personally, and now... It's a bit harder to let personal insults affect me."

"And yet you threatened your bullies with grievous harm, even to... devour them," Dragon said, her tone feigning disgust.

"For you, it looks like cannibalism. Because you still think me human," I said. "But to you, the identity of the Dragon is a disguise that you cast off. All other things aside, I look at you and I can see a human, a daughter of man," I said, evenly. "To me, this skin that I am wearing is a disguise."

"Speaking about such, the Director is ready to see you, so I believe we may conclude the game?" Dragon asked. She clearly wanted to continue the conversation.

How inconvenient.

"We'll adjourn, then."

* * *

Her scales gleam. They're of a blue-gray color with silver highlights.

They're beautiful.

From the tip of her tail to the tip of her snout, she's forty feet of carnage, with a wingspan of a hundred and fifty feet from wingtip to wingtip.

I've seen Leviathan, I've seen Behemoth, but this beast dwarfs them not in size, but in presence. She explained why. She possesses an ability called 'Frightful Presence', and those with weaker wills are instantaneously subdued by her very being. Even I, having faced danger and monsters, cannot help but be in no small amount of awe at the monster that stands before me.

This being, this creature, considers me nothing more than an annoyance. With all my strength, with my accumulated power, I could do little more than temporarily annoy her. I would be little more than a morsel to temporarily fill her belly.

This is a Dragon.

I have seen Lung taking his fully draconic form, but he is nothing more than a serpent, nothing more than a mockery of what a true Dragon is.

Her wings folded, her foreclaws rested in front of her chest, her neck arched as she looked at us as if we were mere ants, slit eyes gleaming.

Her voice booms, shakes me to my very bones, and I can feel her frigid breath on me. My armor is working doubletime to prevent the effects of her breath from sticking to me.

"Will you fight me, heroes?" she asked. "Can you muster the will to face me in combat, knowing that surely you will perish? Are you so willing to defend a criminal that you'd throw your lives away for her sake?"

Why? Why is she trying to convince us to back down?

She has threatened Shadow Stalker's life, in her civilian identity. She has made it clear that if we continue to defend her, she will consider us her enemies and the allies of evil.

This monster is telling us, heroes, that we are evil. And yet, her voice is compelling, her words ring true - Sophia is a violent former criminal. I know that she chafes under the restrictions of the Wards. I know that she is responsible for deaths, I know that she acts not out of a sense of justice but out of revenge. I know that Sophia is... I can't help but say it, I know she is a villain wearing a hero's clothes.

So why... why are we defending her? Why do we fight for her sake?

"If you would face me, heroes, then you would die!" the dragon said, standing on all four claws, "for the sake of one who would dance and piss on your graves," she said. "Very well then!" she said, "I admire your conviction and your valor, your dedication towards protecting your allies, but as I told you before, Armsmaster, I tolerate no corruption!"

A single wingbeat.

That was all it took. The gust of wind that her wings created as she lifted into the air was enough to bowl me off my feet and against a wall. The fight was over for me. "Dauntless- are you-"

The comms' officer's words were soon silenced by the sound of Miss Militia beginning to pelt the flying dragon with high caliber gunfire and rocket propelled grenades.

I was lucky, because I could see her, as she floated, unleash her Breath Weapon upon Armsmaster, who had anchored himself to the ground.

* * *

Lung is dead.

I need to repeat that.

Lung is dead.

I fell butt first on the couch. "You are a villain."

Oh. Oh shit, shit shit shit!

She's gonna kill me too!

"And yet," she said, "your evil is petty. You do not receive joy from inflicting suffering unto others."

Her form is human, but I know she is not. She chafes under that skin, and her scales gleam and her teeth are glinting and her claws can rend me apart piece by piece.

Don't open, mouth, don't make this worse than it already is! I shouldn't, I can't, I musn't- I can see it.

"T-Teeth, so many teeth," my mouth is running on its own. "p-p-please don't- don't- e-eat me!"

I'm losing all control, I can't help it, this thing, this monstrosity, it shouldn't be!

I felt breath rush into my lungs as her eyes focused on mine.

"I seek not the end of your life," she said, bringing a hand behind herself and shaking her long and curly dark hair. A memento of her mother, my power supplied, kept for sentimental value. She has spared me. "Do not make me regret this decision. You have your lives, you can save them, turn them around. You possess power. Turn it for the service of good, rather than the service of self," she said.

She means it. She's giving an ultimatum.

Become a hero, or I will eat you.

Between a gun and a dragon place, huh.

"I-I can't-" my mouth is running unchecked again.

She closed her eyes.

I'm fucked.

I'm going to die. Or even worse, I'm going to become a basement dwelling, drug-addled slave.

Unless...

Yeah.

That could work. I need... I'm going to do something intensely stupid. I hope it works.

It's time to become the priestess of a dragon! If I get lucky and my power isn't bullshitting, I'll get to learn magic out of this deal, too!

* * *

Welp I'm done.

Taylor is a Young Adult Silver Dragon. Because she triggered as a Young Adult, and so when she went Dragon, she turned into the appropriate age class for her 'human' age class.

Also, in case you don't know, dragons in DND are bad-fucking-ass. And while you usually hear of stories of dragonslaying... if your party 'easily' slays anything other than a wyrmling with ease, you're a bad DM. These things are VERY intelligent. They're intelligent enough to outright use magic. A Dragon's gonna take a few attacks of opportunity - it has the hit points to afford it - in order to get to the sky, and once it's flying, it's over - it can just use its Breath Weapon until it runs out, and then just divebomb the party one by one, since it will have made you spread the party to avoid its AoE attacks, and kill them all at its leisure.

Simply put, these things are badass... but not too badass to not fit in the Wormverse in terms of power. The real nightmares out there still present more than enough of a threat to a Young Adult Silver. Hell, give Armsmaster enough time and he'll come up with countermeasures to her.

Also, Tattletale can learn magic from Taylor, but only just barely. Fortunately, IIRC, Taylor can use Cleric spells and she's a fifth level Caster. Also Lung has her somewhat beat in that his fight with Leviathan went far better than Taylor's thank to his regeneration. Taylor takes like a month just to recover from that hit, and she only survives because Contessa knows how to accelerate her development into a Great Wyrm, which Cauldron wants A LOT.

Why?

Because a Great Wyrm Silver is capable of using two 9th Level Spells four times a day. Those spells? Gate, which is unbelievably fucking useful, and True Resurrection, which makes their victory damn near guaranteed if they can keep Zion from killing Taylor. Especially because Hero's Wavelength specialization is probably one of the few things that can actually inconvenience Zion.

Then again, if Taylor rolls a natural 20 and Hold Person lands on Zion, Lily can instakill him, so there's always that.


	15. The Time And Space Annihilation Bureau

**The Time And Space Annihilation Bureau**

* * *

Summary: In which Vista and Clockblocker realize that together they might be the most overpowered duo the world has ever known.

* * *

"Okay, so, you know how the stuff I touch is inviolable, right?" Clock explained.

Vista wasn't really paying that much attention, much more focused on her game of Snake. It was surprising that the PRT issue phone even had Snake to begin with, and while she was tempted to ask someone if it was meant to, that meant it would probably be taken away, and honestly, she needed some way to occupy her time mid-patrol.

"I've been trying to think of ways to make my stuff into a weapon," he continued. "But so far, the best I've got is trying to make people run into things that I've frozen. And that's just not a very good idea."

Vista nodded. She had misjudged the length of her snake's tail so she had to wait a few seconds while the game went back to the title screen so she could try again. "Well obviously," she said.

"So I've been thinking... you can't affect the space a living being occupies, right?"

"Right."

Clock hummed. "But you could, hypothetically speaking, twist the space in front of them so they go somewhere they didn't expect to and would have no time to react to."

Vista hummed, as the game started again. She remembered doing that to Glory Girl, to make her walk into a wall, at least once.

"Since convincing people to walk into stuff I set up before-hand is hard, maybe we could actually use your power to effectively 'move' the stuff I've frozen in front of people."

Vista paused the game.

"Huh. That... sounds actually kind of smart. We should try it out."

* * *

Leviathan leaped into the air, after running so fast as to be little more than a massive blur of motion.

Its top half fell about a hundred meters in front of the bottom half. The legs seemed to realize what sort of trouble they were in, and they turned tail and ran back into the water.

"Ho~leee shiet!" someone screamed.

Vista blew on her nails and polished them on her chestpiece. Clockblocker, she knew, was grinning like a loon beneath his mask.

* * *

Vista grinned as she felt the 'field' created by her power break under the strain of holding Crawler's massive form. Fortunately, she didn't have to hold him for long and she knew sweet, sweet unconsciousness would take the edge of the pain away in a minute.

She looked to where she had made Crawler move, to the Clockblocker-reinforced cage. Making Crawlery slip through the keyhole had been fantastic.

Clock gave her a thumbs up and she collapsed to la-la-land.

* * *

The Undersiders were a very dangerous group... with relatively lame-sounding powers.

They had been the bane of the Protectorate for a while now. Like, a year or so.

Vista's ever increasing grasp on the bullshit of her powers, Clockblocker mused, was a godsend to dealing with them. Up to and including the moment of their capture.

Better still? Tattletale had been put in stocks. Made indestructible by his power, of course. While Dennis would always know that Sophia's ass was nicer, he could very well appreciate Tattletale's ass in spandex.

Also good?

Skitter was knocked out cold, so no bugs!

* * *

Whodda thunk it, the Undersiders were telling the truth for once. Thomas Calvert was exposed as Coil and arrested. Too bad he was liberated mid transport to the Birdcage.

Still, the Undersiders, unfortunately for the Wards, were not convicted murderers and, in light of the fact that they all had tragic backstories and, Dennis thought this was bullshit, the 'willingness' to cooperate and play ball, they were not all sent to prison.

Admittedly, Sophia WAS actually guilty of manslaughter and she had been made a provisional ward. Also Sophia was an actual psychopath, unlike the Undersiders minus Regent. He still liked hanging out with Sophia more than he liked knowing that Skitter was now a Ward in Los Angeles, under Alexandria herself. That sounded like a reward to Dennis, more than a punishment.

Sue him, the bug powers still freaked him out, he didn't want to think of her as a 'misunderstood teenage girl' when she had tried to put bugs in his everything.

Fortunately, Missy shared his opinion on the presence of Bug Girl and they'd blocked any possibility of her getting transferred to Brockton Bay.

* * *

Armsmaster was now even more of a workaholic, but he had apparently taken that stick out of his ass and fashioned a new halberd with it, because he was far less interested in his own glory and much more interested in more important stuff. Like the pursuit of Jack Slash, whom the cute prophet girl had said would bring the end of the world as we know it.

"And I feel fine~" Dennis chorused as he played the song in his head.

Okay, so if you heard her talk about Skitter, Dinah would tell you all about the brave girl who worked for a monster just to free her, in order to make up for the mistake that resulted in her kidnapping in the first place. While Dennis would like to insist that fixing her own damn mess didn't make her a hero, Dinah had insisted that Skitter had no knowledge of what would happen.

She was fixing an error in judgment because she trusted the wrong person.

Apparently, Alexandria agreed, because she actually promoted Skitter, now Weaver, as a young heroine forced to do bad things for the sake of someone she cared about, and actually promoted her acts of good will when her boss would have had her be cruel instead.

Dennis was forced to admit that Skitter's 'territory' had unarguably been the best place to live in after the coming of the Nine. She had been seen fighting Mannequin twice, after all, nearly dying both times, to protect her people. Also she was distributing supplies and giving shelter to those who needed it.

Okay so maybe Bug Girl wasn't the image of evil that Dennis thought her as when he thought of that time he was covered in bugs.

But she still creeped him the fug out.

* * *

Much as bug girl creeped her out, the spider silk costume?

That was pretty sweet.

Even Clock had admitted as much, and he disliked Skitter just as much, if not more, than Vista did.

Missy was hardly one to 'hold grudges', so to speak. If she did she would've made Sophia walk off a pier she thought much longer than it was a long, long time ago, but the humiliation the team had suffered at the bank was enough to give her plenty of reasons not to want the former Undersiders anywhere near her.

Okay, so, Imp and Regent were pretty okay. They even got to keep their old names since they were pretty PC, all things considered. Yeah, Regent had confirmed that he was a recovering Sociopath, and Imp was... well, Imp, but they were close to her in age, they were competent and their sense of humor was almost as dark as her own.

Admittedly, they got all sorts of weird looks when they all laughed at, of all things, a rape joke, but hey, Brockton Bay was a shithole and you either learned how to laugh or you went insane.

Also they thought her scars were pretty cool. That helped.

Anyway, their presence expanded Clock and Vista's ability to make people trip into situations that made Clockblocking them much more optimal. Imp's effective invisibility and Regent's ability to make people trip were both extremely useful when it came to sticky situations that before had no real solutions.

Such as the Butcher. With Imp using a camera to transmit the layout and placement of all the Butcher's minions and Regent to get them to stumble at just the right time, it was easy for Vista to alter space into a tunnel that deposited each of them into a cage.

Admittedly, containing the Butcher was a bit of a problem, but Armsmaster and Dragon had a solution for that anyway.

* * *

"I won't lie, this... is fucking hilarious," Clockblocker admitted as he watched Zion repeatedly smack himself against inviolable barriers. Oh, he could destroy them - he could counter any and all parahuman powers. Thing is, he needed to make a conscious effort to do so, and whereas once he was spreading unstoppable destruction, now he was constantly stopping to destroy paper that got in the way of his stupidly powerful blasts.

And they'd even tossed toilets at him. He didn't understand the significance - nobody was sure Zion was even actually intelligent instead of being just borderline sapient - but it was still funny.

Ultimately, distracting him with Paper was enough that when he was too busy destroying an entire printer (They ran out of paper), he did not notice that Flechette had thrown a pebble at him.

Well, mostly, she had thrown it at the space Vista was crunching, which Flechette's power went through like it wasn't even there.

Zion died screaming.

* * *

"And that," Missy finished, "is how we saved ALL earths!"

"So what did happen to Browbeat?"

Missy blinked. Then she turned to Clockblocker. He shrugged, and Vista once more face the class.

"Who?"


	16. You're Welcome Here

**You're Welcome Here**

* * *

Summary: The Marquis had no parahuman lieutenants, but he had people he trusted. More importantly, he had an old friend that he respected and trusted enough to entrust the care of his most precious treasure to. Thus, Amelia Lavere became Amy Hebert.

* * *

"Shame about the New Wave girl," someone said.

Amy's ears perked. She was always up for news about the exploits of Brockton Bay's only independant hero team. More importantly, she was always looking to hear news on Victoria Dallon, also known as Glory Girl.

"What happened?" the other man asked, in between pulls of his cigarette.

"Heard she nearly killed a couple of gang members. Dumbass threw a dumpster at them, thinking it was like the movies or something. One guy got mangled pretty bad."

"Sheesh. I'm not sympathetic to the fuckers," one of the medics said, "but you can never be sure that you're not gonna wind up on the wrong end of her temper."

"Yeah, so, the Protectorate cracked down on New Wave and told them that since they obviously can't reign the flying brick in," the first one explained, but he was interrupted when the other spoke over him.

"It's rein, you dumbass."

"I'm a doctor not a linguist," he argued, "anyway, point is, they said that the girl is an idiot and can't be trusted not to wreck everything, so she's been conscripted. The only other choice she had was Juvie, from what I hear."

"Real shame. Brockton could use its own Alexandria, for sure," the smoker said, dropping his cigarette and stepping on it. "The Protectorate will probably curb her property damage but she'll never fight bad guys again, at least until she's Protectorate-age."

"Shouldn't take too long. She's, what 17?"

Amy frowned, but sighed and began the trip back to her place of origin, Brockton Bay General. Much as she liked Glory Girl's ass in those tight jeans that she tended to wear at school, she too agreed - the girl was an airheaded moron at the worst of times, and an arrogant showboater at the best. Besides, it probably wouldn't take long for the fuckers to show up for her to put them back together.

She grabbed at her cellphone and quickly dialed her home number. "Mom? Yeah, it's Amy," she said, "no, mom, I'm not with- you know I'm- yes, yes, I know. I'm being discrete, I promise, no, I'm not smoking," she said, sighing. It was just the one time, she had just tried a cigarette and hadn't even liked it. "Okay, yeah, sure. I'll pick you up a chocolate bar from the vending machine."

Finally doing what she had stepped out to do, she placed the phone back in its place, put her mask back on and was quickly received by a nurse who would lead her for her patients of the day. Sure, volunteering at the hospital kinda sucked sometimes, but hey, it was at least enough to keep people off her case about the fact that she also sold her services.

No matter how much dad protested, she knew the family wouldn't keep afloat given the ever-worsening economic situation of Brockton Bay's laborer class. Fortunately, a healer who could do as much as she did could demand outrageous prices for their services. She didn't even have to feel bad about healing criminals, since her biggest client was the Protectorate itself.

* * *

"Oh, hey, Taylor, Emma," Amy said as she yawned.

"Long night, sis?" Taylor asked, as she absent mindedly played a smartphone game. Which she seemed to be losing badly at. Emma, meanwhile, was copying off of Taylor's notes furiously.

"Yeah," Amy said, stiffling a second yawn. "I thought she stayed here last night to study?"

Both girls blushed bright red.

"Okay," Amy said, "shutting up now," she said. "Anyway, what's for breakfast?"

* * *

Amy Hebert had quite a few secrets.

There was one, however, that was not her own, and perhaps one she kept more preciously than any other. In all the world, there were many who knew she was a parahuman, that she had powers. Hell, she knew she was on the President of the United States' personal phonebook, and she knew because she had been the one who had made the cosmetic touchups that resulted in the man being known as the most handsome president in years.

But there was only one person in the entire world, as far as Amy knew, who knew that Taylor Hebert had powers as well.

More importantly, she knew that Taylor had one of the scariest powersets ever known. Taylor possessed the ability to control lower lifeforms. Insects, rodents and birds, mostly, but there was also the odd sea creature as well. Nothing too complex, and when you just thought about it, it didn't seem that scary.

The problem was that Taylor also possessed the ability to control an unlimited number of those creatures, and she also had the ability to turn them into monsters. Amy knew it was similar to how her own abilities worked, and she reckoned she could reproduce what Taylor created with her powers, perhaps with a greater degree of ease and significantly faster... but Taylor didn't need to touch the creatures she controlled to fuse them into an amalgam chimeric monstrosity.

And while she was limited to pigeons, rats and most insects, that didn't really mean much when you can combine a thousand rats into a humongous monstrosity that could toss cars like toys.

It was absolutely imperative that no one, absolutely no one, learn of what Taylor could do. Amy knew it was a one way ticket to the birdcage for her little sister if anybody found out.

* * *

There was no realistic way to stop Leviathan. Amy knew that hundreds if not thousands would die within seconds. She knew that heroes would be dropping like flies.

She had not expected the forty foot tall Frankenstein's Monster made out of the pests of the city, sporting the chitinous armor of an insec, to tackle Leviathan into its own tidal wave.

The monster fought valiantly, but ultimately, it was defeated by the Endbringer. Amy was torn between extremelly proud of her sister being the one who had arguably done the most to delay Leviathan's attacks, pinning the beast down and keeping it contained, and terrified for what this meant.

* * *

"No more heals," Amy said. "My sister is in the Birdcage through no fault of her own. She has harmed nobody. She was caged because a bunch of people are terrified of her scary power. I am never healing anybody ever again until she is released."

The press launched into a million questions, but she answered none of them.

* * *

Alexandria was sitting on her couch.

"Amelia," the heroine said. "Sit down, please."

She was only being polite to keep up appearances. Amy knew Alexandria could kill her before she even got a shot at decaying the heroine's flesh.

So Amy sat down.

"I trust you understand that we cannot have you not heal anyone ever again," Alexandria explained.

"Well, push to get my sister out of the Birdcage and I'll heal again," Amy said, simply.

"Speaking about that," Alexandria said, a bright smile on her face, "your sister never was birdcaged. She can't be released from a prison she is not being held in."

Amy frowned, then her eyes narrowed.

"Amelia... what do you know about Cauldron?"

* * *

So everything goes better because Amelia is with a family that loves her instead of being stuck with Carol 'I Have More Mental Issues Than My Super Depressed Husband' Dallon.

Taylor triggers with a stupidly OP power because the Administrator Shard pinged off of Amy's shard. Also, no, she doesn't have full control over the biology of the monsters her power creates - she can give general directions to her shard, like "humanoid, armored, strong" but everything else is done by the QA based on its own settings. Also the entities she creates are much like Atlas in that they can't survive on their own and the Queen Administrator deliberately makes them unable to actually continue living without Taylor constantly feeding them more biomass.

Plus, the one she made against Leviathan is about her total limit in size - she was then using every other 'pest' animal she gathered from wandering around the city to keep it living while Leviathan was tearing it apart. She does still wind up pulling a Khepri in the end, and Amy is consumed with guilt because she was the one who turned her sister into the Vegetable that effectively killed Zion.


	17. Master of Excuses

**The Master of Excuses**

* * *

Summary: In which Alec decides he doesn't care anymore and decides to see if he can get away with no longer using any sort of excuse whatsoever.

* * *

Brian rubbed the bridge of his nose like an old suffering parent. "Alec, why did you convince Taylor that she had to rob a bank to become a member of the Undersiders in full?"

It wouldn't even be that big a deal if it wasn't for the fact that she'd actually pulled it off and walked out of the bank with twenty thou and having humiliated Laserdream and Shielder of New Wave, especially after the video of the both of them screaming like little girls after getting a bugbath went viral.

Alec turned towards him, pausing the game he was playing. He looked pensive for a few seconds, laid the controller in his lap and joined his hands in a prayer-like position in front of his face, palm to palm. He took a deep breath, spread his hands and smiled. "Because of reasons."

"Goddammit Alec."

Well, it was technically an answer, Brian mused, and likely the best he was going to get. He just groaned and walked away.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Lisa said, "you were here the whole time, you knew I had the biggest headache I've had since I got my power, you knew that coming out of my room into a brightly lit place would only make it worse, and you knew that the longer I spend incapacitated, the more likely it became that somebody would sodomize us because I couldn't see it coming. And you thought it was a good idea to force me to come out of my room to fetch a glass of water, because..."

Alec smiled widely at her, eyes almost glinting. "Because fuck you, that's why," he said, simply.

Lisa groaned and decided she might as well just let it go. Even her power was telling her that was literally the only reason he had done what he had. "As soon as I can move quickly without puking my guts out, I'm giving him the biggest wedgie ever."

* * *

Aisha and Alec where crouched, watching as a pair of superpowered insects made by Panacea were fighting each other brutally, employing their empowered natural weapons and armor to the fullest effect.

"Why are we watching this again?" Aisha asked, as she had been against the idea of pitting a pair of Skitter's special insects against each other, particularly given how much convincing had needed to go into getting Panacea to actually make them. Hell, Skitter was pretty much Tattletale's bitch ever since Tattletale arranged for the new and overpowered insects that Panacea made.

Apparently they had sold everyone's medic a pretty damn huge and important nugget of information for that one.

Alec looked at her, and pursed his lips as if looking for a reason. "For science," he said.

Aisha frowned. She guessed that it technically did count as an experiment. "For science?" she asked.

"For science," Alec confirmed.

Sighing, Aisha sat to watch the bloodsport. The bugs really were pretty freaking brutal with each other, and their enhanced natural intelligence and abilities meant their fight was pretty impressive. "Twenty bucks on the Stag."

"You're on, twenty on Hercules!"

* * *

"Nah," Alec said, waving his hand. "You can go without me."

Aisha's eyebrows rose. "Really? You're usually all for getting dolled up and springing a trap on some dumb fucker," she said. She also wouldn't say that it also benefitted her, she laughed quite a bit when they went for the racist dingbats of the Empire.

"Come on, Aisha," Tattletale said, "it's not like he'd be all that helpful."

"Okay, just tell me why, and I'll go," Aisha said.

Alec brought a hand up to his chin, the other mashing a button to skip through dialogue he'd read a million times in a videogame he'd played a gazillion times. He took five seconds to rub his hairless chin, looking down at his lap. "The stars are not in position," he said, evenly, and then turned back to the screen as a gameplay sequence initiated.

Shrugging, Aisha joined Tattletale as the two went clothes shopping with the large amount of money they had just stolen from the Merchants earlier that day.

* * *

"What's wrong with you, man?" Aisha asked, frowning at Alec, who was slouched on the sofa.

"What do you mean?" Alec asked. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"You're no fun. You haven't gone out to screw with people in like, a week! You've been different!"

Alec looked at her, adopting a forlorn expression. "It's just... it's just not been the same, since the accident..."

Blinking, Aisha tried to remember what he could possibly be talking about.

Figuring that it must be some villain work related bullshit, she shrugged and went about her business. Really, the entire team of Undersiders was built out of drama queens, she could swear...

* * *

"It's only right that we make the situation equal," Legend said. "We need insurance, you know a Ward's identity, and that's very dangerous information. We would hold your identity in collateral."

Alec frowned at the tension in the air. Really, he knew that people were about to do a stupid. He knew Tattletale was gearing up to jump in Taylor's defense. It might even be hilarious. But he couldn't quite say that he didn't care about his friends, and he knew that whatever bomb Tattletale intended to drop would forever burn the bridges between the dork and the heroes.

So there was only one thing to do.

"WON'T SOMEONE PLEASE THINK OF THE CHILDREN!?" Alec shouted, drawing all attention to himself.

It was at that moment that Legend blinked, an action so prominent that his entire expression was visible despite the mask. "... You're right, you're absolutely right," he said, shaking his head. "My apologies, I've been treating you like a hardened criminal," he said, bowing his head ever so slightly. "It is true that your deeds are reprehensible, but I can see where you're coming from," he admitted. "We can, and we should, bury the hatchet, and not in each other's back."

The dork nodded, clearly enchanted by the head of the Protectorate's impassioned speech.

Alec smiled to himself. Yet another situation solved with excuses he got off of internet memes.

Now he just had to find somewhere to drop 'As the prophecy foretold' and his bingo card would be complete...


	18. Heroic Vessel

**Heroic Vessel**

* * *

Summary: Being a vessel for the spirits of heroes of old was awesome. Well, except for the part where a lot of them wore very little clothing.

* * *

 **27**

There are a lot of things that Taylor was willing to give up in order to experience the awesome and exhilarating feeling of being a Hero, of running around in the darkness of Brockton Bay's underbelly, righting wrongs and defeating evildoers.

She had not thought that she would ever find herself adding "modesty" to the list, but after she had gotten a taste of the feeling of overwhelming power that came with her ability, well, she couldn't give it up just to be comfortable.

Didn't stop her from complaining though.

"Goddammit," she muttered, frowning. Sure, she -couldn't- feel cold when she was transformed into any of her heroic personnae, but goddammit, that didn't mean she liked walking around showing every little part of herself for the world to see! And she did mean -little-. The transformations came with a bit of effect on her body. For the most part, she was usually simply transformed into an actually fit human being. Some transformations had given her bigger muscles, and one memorable time she'd gotten a decent pair of breasts out of it, but this time, the transformation seemingly left her thin and without visible muscle.

That was not the problem.

The problem was that she was also dressed in what she could only describe as a parody of clothes. For starters, she had only the legs of what should've been a pair of pants - her red panties were fully exposed. Nothing covered her from waist to breasts, leaving her flat tummy (at least she wasn't showing off her paunch, she mused) exposed, and the only thing covering her very modest breasts was a pair of straps that hung from her collar. She had armor on her pant legs, on her shoulders and she had black silken sleeves as well.

It really seemed like reverse clothes - like somebody had seen a pair of shorts and a tank top and desided to design clothes that covered the body parts that they didn't, but then forgot to give her the shorts and tank top.

Some would say she was practically inviting wandering gazes, and more scummy individuals would say she was inviting wandering hands and other bodyparts. Fortunately, Taylor had also been given a sword - some sort of Katana, she guessed - with a raccoon-tail-like sheath. It was kinda cute. Sure, that by itself wouldn't be enough, but she also had the ability to use it.

And how!

Admittedly, she had so far come across no transformation that didn't give her the ability to defend herself from, and utterly trounce, baseline humans.

One of the advantages her current form had over most others she had used, though?

She could move.

Had she looked at herself when in movement, she would have described herself as a chipmunk on cocaine, or some sort of very quick rodent on performance enhancing drugs.

She knew that heroes who couldn't fly often tended to use rooftops or the like. Well, she was leaping two or three roofs at a time, and she was doing so with extreme ease, knowing she could push farther if she wanted. Every time she did, she knew she could plot a course at least eight steps ahead, but something always stopped her. She needed a target. She knew what she could do - eight leaps would power a final one, and on the ninth she'd attack.

This was a very useful thing. Sure, she needed to have build up for what she knew to be her most powerful attack in this form, but it was also basically a guaranteed kill shot. A guaranteed decapitation, though she was sure, or at least she hoped, that she could change the target to something less lethal. Hopefully she was right and hitting with the flat side of her one-edge katana would just knock people out instead of decapitating them.

She heard lots of crashing sound, and there was an explosion of fire.

Pausing her roof hopping, Taylor moved until she was looking down, from a three story building. She could see that about a block away, a fifteen foot tall humanoid, barely, dragon was fighting three beasts of bone and exposed muscle, and it was winning. There were clouds of darkness about, and fleeing people.

Knowing instantly who it was, Taylor frowned. There really was no other thing to do. If she let him continue, his rampage would continue, and the damage he would deal to the city would be unbelievable. Brockton Bay's economy was already in the shitter. It couldn't also deal with that.

This was Lung. No time to fuck around. Taking a deep breath, Taylor steadied herself.

"Dan-No-Ura," Taylor muttered to herself, performing the first leap.

One became two, then three, four, five- there were ten houses beween her and her target, but she skipped one, and the sixth leap was for two houses, the seventh was for one, the eight was for one, and then she was ready.

"Hassou Tobi!"

Lung had a moment to react. His severed head vomited fire as it fell to the ground, and his body crashed.

"Fucking hell!"

Taylor's slipper-clad feet touched the ground, and her breath was no longer steady.

"Jesus fucking christ, he's still fucking moving!"

Taylor's eyes widened. It seemed the night wasn't over yet.

She grasped her sword's handle tightly and her eyes narrowed. Plans and tactics were already forming in her head. Sometimes, even though she hated their outfits, she really appreciated the abilities of her alternate personnae.

* * *

 **136**

"... Pay up," Tattletale said. "I think. Even I'm confused."

"... Are you the streaker?" Regent asked.

Taylor blushed furiously. "That was just my power!" she protested, her face red. Hell, her face had been red for hours, because her outfit was, while admittedly technically decent, still not something she liked to wear.

"And what's with dressing like a fetishist's idea of a catholic schoolgirl?" Regent asked. "With that and the height, sheesh."

"Shut up," Tattletale said, "I really, REALLY don't want to get exploded today."

Still blushing, Taylor gripped her stupid pink staff's handle tighter than she knew, her knuckles turning white. One of the things she hated about her power? She could, and did indeed, lose height sometimes. Still, this was the most height she'd ever lost, nearly a foot if not that outright. She looked not unlike a little girl. She wore a black pleated skirt and a white blouse, white kneesocks and simple brown leather shoes. She also had a silly white hat on her head.

"Admittedly, it's a great disguise," Grue said, pointedly not looking at her. "I'm so glad we scheduled this meeting in an abandoned warehouse instead of a popular restaurant like someone wanted."

"I'm so glad I got overruled, too," Tattletale said. "Explaining why we're pitching a position in our team to a little girl would've been so freaking awkward."

Taylor blinked. "Hoe?" she was confused, "you're doing what now?"

"Oh yeah. Wanna be a supervillain? We need a heavy hitter, and honestly, you're the heaviest hitter I've seen in a while..." Tattletale began.

She explained how it'd work.

Taylor frowned and thought back to her meeting with Armsmaster.

The man was such a colossal douche!

Just thinking about it sent Taylor into a rage that almost had her using her power on everything around her. With her face red, she remembered that stupid, stupid stupid stupid man, talking down to her, trying to convince her to give up on the credit for Lung's defeat. For her sake, he said! Bah! Just because he had a history of excellent work, was the leader of the protectorate, and was also stupidly handsome, that- that- Uuugh!

How dare he! It's not like she desperately wanted him to tell her she was doing a good job and give her a headpat or anything!

"The less you dwell on your lewd fantasies," Tattletale said, "the better for everyone involved."

"I'm not thinking anything lewd!" Taylor shouted, blushing brightly.

Grue was whistling.

Regent was smiling.

It went pretty much downhill from there.

* * *

 **106**

There was something important that Taylor had told the Undersiders about her power.

It affected her personality when she used it. When she assumed the powers and identity of one of her alternate Personnae, there was some change beyond the physical. Tattletale had quickly surmised and theorized that the reason Taylor had been so willing to chop off Lung's head... five times... during their fight that felt like a million years ago was because the mindset she had adopted was one that favored the instantaneous destruction of threats, and gave her a tactical and strategic mind that recognized just how huge Lung's threat was, allowing her to reason out that the morals she had been taught since she was a child were adverse to her survival and the achieving of her objective.

Similarly, Taylor had admitted that she would have probably been more rational about joining the Undersiders if she hadn't drawn the particular card that she did that one time, but she was up to dealing with the consequences of reckless misuse of her power for disguise purposes.

When the Undersiders were to rob a bank, however... Taylor happened to draw a particularly nasty card.

A very nasty card that gave her a very potent and varied set of powers.

For starters, her hair had gone mostly white, and she was now wearing armor dark as night, a cloak that seemed to be positively soaked in blood and a headpiece that she was unsure served any purpose as armor, and certainly didn't as a mask.

On her right hand was a flagpole, with a bundled up flag that she knew had a Dragon Insignia. She could use it to trigger one of her more powerful abilities by calling out its name. It was the crystallized form of her own resentment. Just merely thinking of Emma got Taylor's blood boiling. The lingering feelings of betrayal spiked, and the angrier and more hateful she became, the more power she knew she would draw from the black rain that she could call down upon her foes.

Even worse, however, was her sword. She knew its name - La Pucelle - and she knew that it would wreathe her and her enemies in fire, fire that did not burn her, fire that burned as brightly as she could bring herself to hate. In this form, in particular, it was very easy to be overcome by her hatred of all things that reminded her of the weak and vulnerable little girl she used to be.

That wasn't even getting into her own abilities, as granted by the card she had drawn. The ability to inspire her teammates to greater heights, beyond belief - she noted that the effects of her empowerment would double on those who possessed draconic traits, though that list was limited to two people, far as Taylor knew, and she probably wouldn't ever cooperate with either - and the ability to modify herself to an incredible degree - to the point that she knew she could assume a completely different form.

In essence, Taylor had become a spirit of vengeance, and the shape she had taken was in line with that thought.

For the bank job, that card was unbelievably useful. She possessed all the skills they needed. While wearing it, she had easily usurped the role of leadership from Grue, and it was pathetically easy for her to storm into the bank, slam the butt of her flagpole on the ground and demand absolute obedience through the sheer terror that she produced in all that beheld her blackened form.

The job went very smoothly, however, they weren't there just for the money - they had gone there because they needed to cause as big a ruckus as possible. Boss orders. So they delayed, until the heroes would show up.

The entire roster of Wards showed up, contrary to Tattletale's predictions, accompanied by Glory Girl of New Wave. Unfortunately for them, they had thought they were dealing with the Undersiders of the past, whose heavy hitter was the dog cape Bitch, or Hellhound if you want to be PC.

Needless to say, they were not prepared to tangle with the Spirit of Vengeance-led Undersiders.

Tattletale easily saw through the costume switch between Aegis and Clockblocker, and the super durable brute wound up receiving terrible burns when he tried to take down the Undersiders' temporary leader. Turns out that grabbing someone who can at any time wreathe themselves in hellfire is a terrible idea.

Glory Girl tried to go into the bank, probably going to flank them or something, but she couldn't do shit in Grue's darkness, and before she knew it, she had created the Undersiders' exit path by breaking down a wall. Even her last ditch effort at revenge was useless for her. The only thing she got for her trouble was a slash that had gone through her force field like it wasn't even there, leaving her with a nasty, burning cut on her midsection.

It was no wonder that the Undersiders' reputation as small fry was quickly overcome by the incredibly spooky reputation of the monstrously powerful 'Black Maiden' that had accompanied them that one time for a bank heist.

* * *

That's all she wrote.

The idea behind this one is very simple. I used a RNG to have Taylor switch between different Heroic Spirits. The numbers correspond to their ID.

Taylor switches Heroic Spirit every day, but she can only transform once a day. The transformation lasts as long as she wants it to or until she runs out of power. How much power she has depends on the servant's abilities. For instance, Herakles would last very little because he's a gigantic mana hog, but she would be able to maintain her Illya form indefinitely because Illya has effectively limitless Prana.

For the record, in the bank heist, Taylor injured the Wards pretty severely, giving the Undersiders a VERY bad reputation with the PRT and Protectorate. Of course, since Taylor would become a Berserker the next day and then the one after that she'd have a literal goddess to throw at her problems (somewhat, manipulating Artemis would actually be pretty difficult, but not being a lecherous skirt chaser like Orion is probably helps a lot), the Undersiders are a much, MUCH bigger deal than they were with Skitter.

In order, it's Ushiwakamaru (and if you've played Persona, yes, that is indeed Yoshitsune), Prisma Illya (yes, she's actually a Caster Servant in Fate/Grand Order) and finally Jeanne Alter. And yes, those WERE rolled randomly. For the record, the next two rolls were 82, or Frankenstein, and 60, or Orion/Artemis. The RNG is REALLY generous to Taylor - that second one would've resulted in Artemis falling in love with her and likely sticking around, at which point the Undersiders would have a literal goddess hanging around with them.

The only roll that, if this ever gets that far, I will absolutely fix is her drawing vanilla Jeanne when Leviathan hits Brockton Bay. Mostly because the memories of the fucking Bull of Heaven are still fresh in my mind, and I totally wanna have Jeanne!Taylor solo Leviathan in a similar way, simply denying it the pleasure of actually doing damage by spamming Luminosite Eternelle. Kind of.


	19. No Respect

**No Respect**

* * *

Summary: OR: Vista's done with the Protectorate, PRT and Youth Guard's bullshit, and a newly triggered Trump provides an easy out.

* * *

 _"You're too young, Missy... I'm sorry."_

Bah.

What a load of crap.

I'm too young. Too small. Too little. Too cute. Too weak. Too pathetic.

Everyone thinks I'm some fragile crystal flower, that they can break me by sneezing too hard.

I swear, if I have to just stand there and take crap from Sophia one more time, I'm going to find a way to ventilate her with her own crossbow!

It's not my fault that PR doesn't allow me to fight! It doesn't matter how effective I'd be with any weapon to offset my size, I'm just here to be cute apparently. If any of these people got a peek under my costume, they'd probably crap themselves. Maybe it'd get them to look at me like the warrior I am instead of a cute little girl that needs to be protected.

I'm the one who stared down Hookwolf, and I've got the scar to prove it!

I almost winced from kicking a slightly larger stone that was far heavier than it looked at first glance. Huh. I wasn't paying attention, and it seems like I've wandered off. I was doing some window shopping, the first step to getting taken seriously is dressing the part after all, and certainly all these cutesy kiddy clothes don't help at all.

Then again, when I look at what clothes older teens wear, I'm not entirely sure I want that either. My eyes almost bug out at a girl probably two years older than me. That skirt could be confused for a belt, and if she bends forward slightly, I'm sure I would be looking at her underwear! I'm fairly confident you're supposed to wear tights or shorts under that!

But then again...

Most adult women wear tight clothes with no problem. Maybe it's because part of adulting is losing your shame?

I feel a chuckle bubble up from my chest. I chuckle, because only little girls giggle!

Seeing that, I'm not entirely sure I want to be seen as an adult, if it means everyone's gonna see my underwear if I take a long step or something.

Still, this area's more of an entertainment sector, much lighter on the shops that sell actually useful stuff. Shiny and eye catching though. Hm... I don't recognize that shop, and I'm here plenty - the Wards tend to stick to areas like this. Usually the Enforcers know to scram when we drop by, they're hardly ever trouble, and the place is just too 'safe' for the patrols to be at all entertaining.

Hm... it's a little asian-themed store, it seems. Not common in the Boardwalk or immediate surroundings. Most of the asian store owners moved to the unofficial 'chinatown' district, well known to be crawling with the ABB. They're 'safe' away from the Empire, but that 'safety' is probably a protection racket more than anything else.

The idea of the gangs acting freely without me being able to do anything about it kind of leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Like that time Joey Strada put ash on candy and then handed them out.

Jerk.

It's a quaint, I think that's the right word, place. Nice and cozy. Small but not really cramped-looking. It's all done in wood, or at least painted to look like it's wood, kind of mahogany-y, maybe.

"Hello there," the shopkeeper said.

She's kind of pretty actually. Strange, in a way. Her hair is long, incredibly long. If she weren't sitting, I'm sure it'd reach the back of her knees, but as she is, it hangs behind her like a deep, dark brown curtain. She's wearing a patterned kimono thing, not sure what it's called, I'm just assuming it's a kimono thing. Flowers in red, orange, white and yellow, on a white base. It's really pretty, and if Brockton Bay wasn't the capital of racism, I might actually want to get one of these.

It's just so pretty and it really gives the shopkeep an air of maturity. It took me until now to notice that she's probably not that much older than me. It's in her features.

"Ah, uhm, ehm-"

Dammit tongue work properly dammit! I know she's pretty but I like boys!

She smiled, and I could almost feel my heart grow wings and go aflutter. Not the time to be cheesy now!

"Welcome to my humble store. What may I help you with, miss..?"

"Missy," I blurted out, "I mean, ah, my name's Missy," I explained.

"I see. It suits you, Miss Missy," she said, almost as if testing the words on her mouth, and her smile told me she found them satisfactory. "And as I said, how may I help you today?"

"I, ugh," I frowned, "I'll be honest," because though I wanted to avoid an awkward situation, I think it's better to come clean. "I'm just kind of window shopping? I saw the store and it looked interesting."

I looked around. On the walls to my right and left there were shelves, all holding knick knacks of one kind or another. A lot of them looked like toys. You know, the ancient kind. Wooden horses, lead soldiers. There were figurines I barely recognized from cartoons, like that cat thing that moves its paw.

"I'm not really sure if there's anything you could help me with," I admitted.

"Worry not, Missy," she said, "if you could find my store, there's something I can help you with. Maybe an ear would serve you well."

A roundabout way of telling me to spill.

She's a stranger and... I doubt I'll be meeting her again. Might as well. "It's... uh... It's just..."

It's kind of pathetic, now that I think about it.

"It's just so silly, and I don't want to bother you with something that's really not worth your time," I explained.

I'd imagine that a girl this young running a store all on her own's probably working pretty hard.

She shook her head and offered me a bland smile. "Please, do," she said. "No problem is too small or unimportant. If it matters to you, then it's important. Speak," she told me, though despite the phrasing, I can tell it's more of a request than anything else.

I suppose I might as well. It's not like I'm losing anything here.

"Well... it's just... I'm tired of not being taken seriously," I said, frowning and looking down at my feet. "It's always "Oh Missy, you're too young" or "you'll understand soon" or "maybe when you're older", and I'm sick and tired of it, all the time. It's like nobody ever sees me, they just look at me and see a little girl!"

My breathing was hard, and I realized that the volume had climbed until I was screaming by the end, but I'm not done.

"It's awful, you know? I get no respect! It doesn't matter that I've been doing this longer than some adults, or that I've got the most experience and training out of all of us, I'm just the littlest Ward to them, who cares if I've got more fights with Hookwolf and Oni Lee than most of the Protectorate? I'm just me, the Wards' mascot. Who cares if I'm the only 9 anything in the city, I'm just the girl who's not actually allowed to fight anyone, I'm just supposed to use my powers to keep people away from me!"

I fell.

I don't know when, but I was on the ground, and I could feel tears prickling at the back of my eyes and you know what?

Fuck it.

"I hate it! I hate it hate it hate it hate it! I hate Shadow Stalker, always talking down to me and making fun of me because I'm not allowed to just grab a taser or a stick to beat people up with! I hate Chris because he can make all sorts of weapons and use them while I'm stuck looking cute! I hate Dennis and his stupid sense of humor and how he gets away with everything while I can't even be angry in public! I hate Carlos and that stick up his ass and that he got the position of leader that should've been mine! But most of all I hate Dean and his constant condescencion, just because I'm three years younger than he is, I'm just a dumb little kid he's humoring! I HATE THEM! I HATE THEM ALL!"

I don't think I noticed when her arms enveloped me, but I certainly did notice when she started rubbing my back.

"There, there," she said, "let it all out. It's all rotten and festering inside you, let it all out, it's the only way to be healthy again."

Before I could continue, I had to cough out a few sobs, before recomposing myself. "I hate Assault, he's just like a grown up Dennis, and I hate Battery and her condescending attitude, and I hate Dauntless because he gets stronger with no added effort..."

My sniffles got too bad, and I felt horrible about staining her beautiful kimono, but it seemed like she was prepared, as she presented me with a tissue to blow my nose on.

"I hate Piggot and her ugly bigoted face, I hate the PR department and I hate the Youth Guard, all they're doing is telling me how fragile and weak I am and I'm not! I'm NOT! I'm STRONG! I'm tough! I can handle it! Why... why does everybody," I was interrupted by hiccups, "I just want them to acknowledge me. I don't want to be a cute little girl... I'm a hero! Why... why does nobody respect me!?"

"I respect you, Missy," she said, leaning back slightly and pulling me until I was seated on her lap.

I don't think I need to say that I didn't struggle very hard when she kept me from moving away from her hug. "I don't believe you... look at me, I'm here crying and blubbering and making a mess because I'm just a stupid little girl and-"

"Shush," she said, pressing me against her soft chest. "Even the strongest under the heavens cry, Missy. Even the men who could move mountains and reshape the world, know tears of pain, sorrow and anger."

"But... but," once more I was interrupted by my throat seizing my words before they came out, "I'm just here crying because I feel bad about myself! I'm an idiot, I'm not strong, I'm just a dumb little girl playing hero and-"

"Shush," she said, more insistently this time. "Missy, I won't mince my words and I won't lie to you. There are those who have suffered worse than you, who keep suffering day after day. Men, women and children who struggle daily for so much as a meal, who live under constant fear of death, who suffer unimaginable pain every waking moment of their lives, and who long and beg for a death that is much too distant."

It's horrible! Here I am, blubbering because people around me want to protect me, while others live like that! I'm such a fool, a self centered and selfish idiot!

"But that doesn't matter," she continued. "You hurt, Missy. It doesn't matter how much others hurt. Another's pain does not diminish your own. You're hurting inside, and it's unhealthy to think your pain meaningless just because another suffers worse!"

"H-How... how can you say that?" I asked, blinking away the tears that were making my vision blurry. "How does me feeling a little down compare to someone who doesn't know if they'll be alive tomorrow?"

"It doesn't, Missy," she explained. "But it doesn't have to."

I blinked. "W-What... what do you mean?"

She smiled.

Her smile really is beautiful.

* * *

It's strange to think that I've been returning to the shop practically every day since then.

I wasn't surprised, however, to discover the shop's owner to be a parahuman. Honestly, I don't think she even tried to hide it after the first time. Then again, she had explained that on some level, it was because I was no longer trying to put her in a box - that I was no longer seeing what I wanted to see instead of what was.

But I'm not sure if she was having fun at my expense.

As soon as I'd worked out the nerve to step into the shop again, there she was, sitting on a cushion. Her hair was as beautiful as ever, but for a moment I thought it much more voluminous than usual.

Then it began gently swaying behind her and I realized that what I was looking at was a deep dark brown curtain of hair... and fur. Nine big, incredibly fluffy and soft tails were waving behind the shopkeeper, and when I looked up, I saw her ears twitch.

Dark, nearly black, fur that matched her hair and tails, pointy and soft looking.

I nearly squeed.

She was gracious enough to allow me to pet her tails... every day. It's not like she's asking for much in terms of payment. Honestly brushing her tails is almost a reward at this point, it's just so very relaxing.

I was a bit startled when a customer actually walked into the shop while I was in the middle of grooming one of her tails, but it seemed like he didn't see what I was doing. Strange.

The man was asian, looking to be in his late fifties. It took ten minutes of him chatting about random, inane topics until he got around to describing the kind of object he wanted. Apparently an anniversary gift for his wife, made to the specifications of an object that they'd lost when the island they'd lived on sank.

Kyushu refugees, it seemed.

The shopkeeper seemed to reach into a cupboard, I couldn't quite see, and removed from it a small package.

"I think this should be the closest you'll find," she said.

The man took the offered object and opened the package. He seemed pleased. He bowed. He said something I couldn't understand.

The shopkeeper smiled. "You owe me nothing but your kindness. Take this to your wife, and if she is happy, then we will discuss a payment. Far be it from me to charge for a gift found unworthy."

The man said something more, bowing more deeply. Then he took a deep breath and seemed to steel himself. "Thank you for your aid," he said in stilted and accented English, "Great Spirit," he said.

I blinked.

The shopkeeper laughed. "Thank you very much for the effort," she said. "I shall eagerly await your return. Until then, I bid you farewell."

The man said something else in his language and then left.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"That? Hm..." she seemed pensive. "He had a fight with his wife," she explained, "and is trying to make up with her by giving her a gift. In this case, a painting made by her grandfather, the original of which was thought destroyed."

"But you gave him a package that was like, this big," I said, holding my hands about ten inches apart.

"It was rolled up," she explained, smiling. "Are you feeling better today?"

"I... yes, actually. It's very relaxing," I admitted, running the brush over her fur once more.

"How are things at your, shall we say... day job?"

I winced. I really should not have revealed as much as I did. I guess in some ways I've still got a long ways to go.

"More of the same," I admitted. "I just... don't think talking to people would really do anything. I'm just a kid to them."

"Maybe," she said. "Have you considered taking more drastic measures?"

What could she possibly mean? "Uhm... what do you mean?"

"When workers feel their rights are threatened, when they feel disrespected, do they not strike back at their masters the only way they can? If they refuse to give you the respect you feel you deserve, then why not refuse to give them the work they feel entitled to?"

"You mean go on strike?" I asked. Huh. I hadn't thought about that actually.

"Precisely," she said. "If they do not listen when you try words, then..."

She smiled.

"That's when you begin escalating."

Her smile really is beautiful.

* * *

That... went worse than I was expecting.

But it honestly went a long ways to show me just how little the Protectorate thinks of me in general.

When I refused to work at all until I was given what I think I deserve - namely, authorization to train with at least a baton so I can take people down on my own - I think I saw what everyone really thinks of me.

I'm not shocked at all that Carlos is offended that I'm looking to be more than what the Protectorate wants me to be. Boy's got a stick up his ass about following all the rules and regulations. It's no wonder that he felt threatened when I defied them.

At least he still carried my complaints all the way to Armsmaster and Piggot.

And what a fucking shitshow that was. Forgive me my vulgarity, but it's the only way I can describe that conversation.

From the beginning, Armsmaster seemed to not care in the slightest. It seemed like he was outright offended that he had to come out of his lab to deal with me and my complaints. I know he gets obsessive about his tinkering, but geez, you'd think the guy would at least act in his capacity as Protectorate Leader at least a little.

Especially with how much I've seen people grumble that the only thing Armsmaster cares about is his career.

Piggot, however, took the cake. She started condescending and dismissive, and only got worse from there. Apparently, to her I'm little more than an entitled brat who wants to be pampered. Well, after like half an hour of yelling, we came to a mutual disagreement.

So I told them to get stuffed and left. I left my Vista costume at the base. I don't think I'm gonna be needing it for a while at least. They outright refuse to consider the idea of giving me the ability to fight without backup, they refuse to consider me for leadership despite my experience and they refuse to allow me to move my image beyond 'the littlest Ward'.

So I'm done. I'm done with all of them.

The wind chimes, well, chimed. "Good afternoon, Missy."

I still have no idea what the shopkeep's powers actually are, but it seems like she always knows who I am. "Good afternoon," I replied. "I... think I kind of quit today."

She seemed surprised. "Hm... well then. That's rather extreme, but if you feel that there was no other recourse..."

I shook my head. "They didn't want to negotiate. I don't think I could've changed their minds. Even if my parents don't want to withdraw me from the Wards... I'm done. I'm never going back there."

"But, forgive me if I'm presumptuous, do you not enjoy being a hero?" she asked.

"If I'm being honest, yeah," I admitted. "Helping people? I love doing it. I loved being Vista, in a sense. I loved being the one everyone looked up to, and giving everyone hope when I showed up in a bad situation... but I don't need the Protectorate. I don't know how, but... I'll find some way to still be a hero!"

She went pensive for a few moments, then gave me a wonderful smile. I think the right word for this is 'beatific', but I haven't had to look up synonyms for 'pretty' in a while.

"I'm glad to hear that. I believe, Missy, that I can help you with that."

I blinked.

"How?"

"Would you like to learn how to learn Witchcraft, Missy?"

* * *

And that's all folks.

A few deets: if written longer, it would've eventually revealed that the shop has an effect on it that basically makes people relax and more susceptible, as well as a natural stranger effect on the Shopkeep that makes her look more trustworthy - essentially, though its actual purpose is to keep the law away.

It's just amazing how little respect Missy gets... from the fanbase, actually.

People reduce her to a punchline a lot. She's usually just a cheerful and cute little girl, frequently begging to have more girls in the Wards.

Everyone always forgets that Missy is Little Miss Badass, and that she certainly doesn't want any more girls in the Wards when she's already struggling to catch Dean's attention as it is.

It doesn't help that we don't really get a look at the Wards pre-Leviathan. Ultimately, I decided to have Missy be struggling with the fact that I imagine her situation pre-Leviathan was pretty much like her situation in fanfic - everyone thinks she's a cute little fragile girl that needs to be protected and kept away from danger, and is under lots of pressure because everyone wants her to be cute and cuddly and she wants to break kneecaps.

The end result is this.

Incidentally, this is an AU where Danny Hebert's mother was Japanese and lived in an old house deep in ABB territory. Two guesses who the Nine Tailed Fox is and the first doesn't count.

Incidentally, I'd have stolen her powers from Tamamo's powerlist from the Fate series. Well, 1-tail Tamamo anyway. Not exactly strong, but her utility abilities are versatile and useful enough to make up for it. Also Taylor doesn't know that she doesn't have a shard from Zion, she has a tiny little chunk of Amaterasu in her.

The plot of the fic would be basically everyone attempting to recruit Missy as she grows in strength. Once she learns how to make charms that explode, she uses her power to stick them on things from very far distances - essentially she's got sticky elemental mines AND the ability to hack reality so everything's in touching range. Plus more esoteric effects as she learns more powerful and varied charms and curses.

Kaiser tries because she's the Aryan ideal, Lung tries because Missy's learning from what basically amounts to a little piece of a Shinto deity, the Protectorate tries to reconcile, the Merchants jump on the bandwagon because Skidmark is an idiot, Lisa tries because Coil puts her up to it (and we get fake fox to real fox combat between her and Taylor. Alec ships it.) and Faultline's crew makes a token attempt as a joke.

Point is, the entire fic would basically detail Missy's transformation from "the littlest/cutest Ward" to "By the time you see her, you're already exploded".


	20. Actually Not Carrie

**Actually Not Carrie**

* * *

Summary: Who needs restraint when you've got superpowers? People who want to keep a low profile, that's who.

* * *

It was ultimately quite an innocuous thing that brought me over the edge.

Based on everything else that had happened to me, you'd think that I would be able to take something as dumb as a stolen assignment.

But as it turned out, even if it's just one straw, it can still break the strongest camel's back.

The tightly wound bubble of anger I had been holding back exploded.

"That is MINE!" I screamed, bolting to my feet and slamming my hands on my desk, creating a louder noise than I expected. "GIVE IT BACK!"

"What is going on here!?" Gladly shouted back.

"Mr. G, Taylor is trying to steal my work!" Madison screeched.

" _It's got my fucking name on it you shit!"_

Madison looked at the pages upon pages of notes.

Do you honestly think I'm THAT fucking stupid, Madison? That I wouldn't sign my own work? Right there it was!

"Taylor, you should learn to share-" that piece of crap that calls itself a teacher began.

"Oh fuck you too!" I shouted, cutting him off and causing him to actually flinch. "She's never gonna let you bang her, you creep!"

Then I turned to Greg. "And that goes for you too, you little retard!" I screamed at the moron who had handed Madison my work, in a roundabout way.

"S-Shut up, you freak!" Madison screeched.

God is her voice annoying. It's like she's trying way too hard to affect a cutesy little girl voice.

"Taylor Hebert, how dare you-" Gladly began, trying to sound like a proper offended adult.

What a bunch of turds. Living, breathing, humanoid turds.

"I dare because I'm sick and tired of your shit, her shit, and everyone else's shit!" I realized I was breathing pretty hard, "I'm sick of having to take their shit, and I'm sick of the teachers jumping in their defense, and I'm sick of this entire fucking school and its fucking faculty and its fucking students! Everyone that's not a bully or banger is apathetic as shit, fuck ALL of you! Every last one of you! What's even the point of this class? World Affairs? The fuck are we learning here when the teacher is an imbecile obsessed with his own popularity who never actually gives a fucking lecture, just assigns group work, knowingly lets his pet students get away with stealing others' work and is more interested in his students' bodies than their minds! And even worse, the student he's fixated on is of course the cutesy little girl, because just wanting to fuck a teenager was not creepy enough, no, you had to throw in actual pedophilic tendencies on top of that!"

Gladly flinched back.

Of course I'm touching a nerve, I'm not even 100% sure that what I'm saying is the truth, but it certainly looks like it, given how much favoritism the short, petite and disturbingly childlike, in both appearance and personality, student gets. Fuck if I know, he might just want to be one of the 'cool kids' for all I know, but so long as everyone's reeling back from the teacher getting accused of being a pedophile, I'm going to use it!

"And you, brainless twit," I rounded up on Madison again, "are so pathetic that you completely lack a mind of your own. The only reason you maintain decent grades in this class is because of the group work, which allows you to coast on another's success, and Gladly looking the other way when you steal my hard work! And of course, I've seen you go crying to the teachers for make up tests and help, away from anyone else's sight, lest they learn that the beta bee is about as mentally intelligent as she is physically developed!"

Madison shrank in on herself, probably because what I'm saying is actually true, and there are girls snickering.

"And I don't know if there's any substance to it, but given how often you go to Campbell for math 'tutoring', I'm fairly sure that rumor about you blowing him to keep your grades up has at least one grain of truth, huh?" I continued. Again, I don't even know, it's just a rumor in the school. There's plenty of those, and while people outwardly pretend that the popular kids are well liked...

I'm not the only one who despises Sophia, Emma and Madison, and I'm not the only target for their bullying.

"As for you," I continued, turning on Greg, "you're insignificant, and a pest. Get it through your thick skull, idiot, they're not going to have sex with you! You're so fucking desperate that you're even trying to come on to me, for fuck's sake, you think that they can't tell? Nobody cares about your stupid games! Nobody cares about your stupid hobbies! Nobody cares about ANYONE else in this fucking school! Grow the fuck up, you're sixteen years old, not twelve, stop thinking with your goddamn dick for once, and make something of yourself for a change!"

Having calmed down a bit, but still quite angry, I decided to leave the class. Someone put their foot in my way, probably thinking I was entirely too angry to look.

I took great pleasure in stepping on that person's ankle, and her screech of pain was quite soothing to my frayed nerves. As I left, I slammed the door hard enough that the glass on it shattered. Once more, quite satisfying.

* * *

Dad was furious when they called. Furious enough to not listen to a word I said, no matter what it was that I said.

And now I'm alone in a park. I don't even know where this is. I'm lost, I've never really been on this side of the docks, this close to Chinatown and the Asian neighborhoods. More commonly known as ABB territory.

I am not crying.

Shut up, I am not crying! It doesn't matter that dad didn't even care about my side of the story, it doesn't matter that he didn't listen to anything I told him, that he didn't even-

I took a deep breath. Bad thought. No time to dwell on that.

I just... I just need to know, what the fuck am I going to do now. I don't know where I am, I don't know how to get home, I can't remember what turns I took to get here because I was running with tears in my eyes and not exactly seeing everything... I mean I could call the police, except I don't have a fucking phone.

A sob escaped me.

"Oi!"

That's... huh.

I looked up from where I was hugging my knees, pressing my face against them.

Oh... oh shit.

Three men. Green and red bandannas.

"What's this?" One of them said, in slightly accented English. He wore a hoodie with a weird design on it."A poor little white girl, lost in our turf..."

"Cut crap, we take her now," one of them, his skin a darker tone, said, his English harsh and accented.

The third, a bald man, laughed. "No need to take her anywhere," he said, no accent on this one. "We can have some fun here first."

Dammit...

This is bad. I don't- I'm not in danger. I know I'm not in danger. Even if my heart is beating fast because of the situation, I know I'm not in danger.

But I don't have a mask. I don't have anything to conceal my identity. Not even runny makeup that would make it difficult to recognize me.

Fuck!

I really don't want to have to do this...

My powers, I don't want to reveal them. Especially, I don't want to reveal the fact that I'm not Manton Limited. I've done enough research to know that non Manton-Limited Telekinesis is VERY scary.

Especially telekinesis as strong as mine is.

I'm not in danger. If necessary, I know I could deal with them. Just hit them with normal punch strength until they run away. But they'd know me, they'd know my face. And that's pretty fucking bad.

I could kill them. Any number of ways. I can rip them apart from the inside, crush them, cut them to pieces - a great deal many options. Almost all of which would be impossible to trace back to me if I keep the fact that I'm not Manton Limited secret.

But...

I don't... I don't like the idea of killing people.

I can see one of them unzipping his fly, and another undoing his belt.

Fuck.

I'm going to have to do something soon, but how-

A gunshot rang.

"Now I don't want to rain on your parade here," a female voice said, "but that is not okay. Now get the hell out of here before I do something you'll regret."

That's... not the correct phrase?

Still, I turn to face my savior. It's a girl in purple spandex, pointing her handgun at the assholes that are now cowering. Thank you, Deus Ex Machina.

Behind her there's a massive beast of exposed muscle, spikes and bone plates. On it is a male figure in black leather, spewing thick dark smoke. I've read about him - Grue. One of the lesser villains of the Bay. If I'm not mistaken, the giant creature would be one of the parahuman Hellhound's dogs. Guess the rumor of the so called parahuman 'Team' known as the Undersiders was true. Good to confirm that kind of stuff. That'd mean the girl who'd spoken would be their rumored leader, Tattletale.

"Shit, it's capes, run!"

They scrambled away.

Along the way, they tripped, and I could tell that the way they tripped, when their legs seized and didn't move, wasn't natural.

The snickering from the Undersiders gave away the presence of a third one, who walked around the large dog to show himself.

Another dog arrived, this one with a different rider. That'd be Rachel Lindt, aka Hellhound, I suppose. A known murderess. Better be careful.

"Oh, don't worry about that, she's not gonna hurt you," the one in purple at the front said. "Hello there. It seems you're in a bit of a pickle."

"Uhm. Eh... Hi?" I tried.

The man in black leather dismounted the dog and came forward. "Tattletale, why-"

"Shush," Tattletale said. "First introduce yourselves, it's just basic manners."

I could almost FEEL the raised eyebrow, as if he was questioning her. He turned to me. "Hello. My name is Grue. This is Tattletale, that's Bitch, or Hellhound if you want to be PC, and last, certainly least anyway," he said, gesturing to the younger boy, "is Regent."

I heard the 'fuck you, Grue', clean as day.

Under the dim light, I can kinda tell that he's going for a ren faire thing with his costume and mask.

"We are the Undersiders," Grue explained. His voice is a smooth baritone, and it's nice to listen to it. Given the leading role he took in introductions, maybe he's the leader?

Hm. Guess they said it. It's just basic manners. "My name's T-Taylor," I said.

Tattletale raised her hand. "Okay, I'm going to start now. First, I want you to know that my power makes me practically psychic. I know things, okay?" she said. "Just making it clear."

I frowned. What could that mean?

"It means that I know what you're thinking," she said. "Most of the time anyway," she added as an afterthought, I think. "Point is... I know, Taylor. It's not that hard to tell. You still have teartracks in your face, your clothes are obviously ill suited to the weather and you look like a lost puppy that someone kicked."

I opened my mouth to retort, but then I closed it.

She's right, and there's no point in denying it if she's as psychic as she says she is.

"And I also know that you were seriously in a fix there, but not because you were in danger. I'm glad you discarded the option to make their heads explode, by the way. You not being a violent psychopath is gonna make this a whole lot easier and smoother."

"Tattletale, where are you going with this?" Grue asked.

"Taylor, I know you're a cape. I know you ran away from home after a fight with your... parents? Father, then," she said.

I don't know how she's doing it, but she IS getting all the information.

"Oh no, you're not doing this. Bitch is the one who picks up strays, not you!" Regent accused.

I frowned.

Tattletale shook her head. "What do you say, Taylor? I'll offer you a place to stay for the night, safety and a warm meal. Just give us a chance. You might find we're not as bad as every stranger danger infomercial is telling you we are."

She took a step towards me and offered me her hand.

When it came down to it...

I had no reason not to take it.

* * *

"Well, the boss wants us to make as big a show as possible," Lisa said.

This boss of ours... I don't know who he is. But I don't like him already. We're thieves, not showmen.

"Why?" Brian asked. "He's always wanted us to keep a low profile before."

"Well he said it's because now that we've got the firepower," Lisa said, turning to look at Rachel first, then at me, "we can actually start playing in the big leagues."

"Where they play for keeps," Brian said. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off of his face, from where he was working out. No need to install a bar for pull ups, when I can just hold one up with my mind. "I don't exactly like the idea of stepping up on how dangerous our operations are for no added reward other than reputation.

Of course, he has a reason to consider safety so very important. After all, he has someone to take care of.

He's the only one of us who does... at least someone human. Rachel has her dogs, one of which she is tending to right now.

"Frankly," Lisa said, "I agree," she continued, cutting off Brian's retort. "But the boss is the boss. Good news is, I argued a raise on our monthly payments to three thousand, and regarding this operation, I've basically got a blank check for preparation.

I frowned. What was even the point of that, though?

I mean, I guess we could hire mercenaries or something, but there's no real point in buying gear. We can't convince Alec to put on any armor, Rachel already has a padded jacket lined with kevlar, Brian's leathers are his staple look - and I'm not exactly complaining about how good he looks in leather pants - and Lisa has decided that spandex is a good idea, for reasons that go beyond me.

I mean, who wears pants with no pockets? What is even the point?

As for me? My ragged cloak works just fine. No point in armor for me, my telekinesis is better defense than any amount of kevlar would be.

"So we're doing this operation in style! This is all for flash, after all!"

"What are we doing, anyway?" I asked. "I kind of zoned out."

It's not my fault. I was playing with Rachel's dogs, by having them chase a moving stick. While at the same time helping Brian work out and playing a videogame with Alec, not touching the controller. I was doing better than when I was trying to dedicate my full attention to controlling my character, but Alec was still kicking my ass seven days to sunday. Shooters are just not for me I guess.

"We're doing our first unequivocally villainous heist, the one that marks the newbies and amateurs and separates them from the pros! We're doing our first big time bank heist!"

* * *

Only the Wards showed up.

The Wards and Glory Girl.

Considering the boss wanted us to make a spectacle, we decided to stay and fight. He's paying us so much for this one that I feel like showing that we're a worthwhile investment.

So just for today, I'm cutting a bit looser than usual. Normally, I like to portray my telekinesis as pretty weak. Using it to open locks, hold small stuff in place, you know, the works. I even pretend that a normal human is stronger than the force I can exert.

Not today, though. I smiled as I walked out into the open.

"Undersiders! We have you surrounded, surrender-" the boy in the Aegis costume that didn't quite fit him right began.

I know, because I just grabbed it with my telekinesis, and hoisted him into the air by it. I'm very careful to only grab the costume. The last thing I want is for them to find out I don't need to do that.

Crossing my arms, I spun him around until he was upside down. "Your costume doesn't quite fit you. You're not Aegis, are you?" I asked.

"Would you believe me if I told you I lost some weight?" he asked, jokingly. "Also your eyes are a lovely green today."

I smiled. "Hi, Clock," I said. It's not the first time I've fought Clockblocker. Every single time, he decides to flirt with me, though the reasons are beyond me. If anything, I'd guess he'd go after Lisa- wait, no, must think Tattletale during jobs. Can't blurt out her real name accidentally-, as she wears much tighter clothes than I do, and she's got a better body, one that possesses actual curves.

"How you doing, beautiful?" he asked.

"Oh, you know, same old, same old," I said, cocking my hip. "What brings you here at this time of day?"

"Same as usual. Gotta get out of school because some villains are holding up a bank, so need to come and save the day like a big damn hero," he said. I moved his arms for him, putting them on his hips, and made him strike a hero pose, like modeling a doll. He didn't resist, knowing it was pointless to. "Also can you turn me back right side up? My blood's coming to my head."

I laughed, and did as he asked.

"There's no way I can convince you to just surrender and walk away, is there?" he asked, once he was upright.

"Afraid not," I admitted, running one hand through my hair.

"Too bad," he admitted. "Also is it just me, or are you way more powerful today than usual? I mean I don't think I've seen you lift people with their clothes before."

"Oh, you know how it is," I said, adopting a fake humble accent, you know the kind. "Gotta pretend that people here have at least a chance to defeat me before I stop playing around and stomp them to the ground."

"Well, I wouldn't know that, since I've never had to hold back to appear defeatable," he said. "Also does that mean we're in very big trouble here?"

"I'm pretty sure of that one. Tell you what, I'll give you guys a sporting chance. I'll fight all of you on my own. If you can beat me before my teammates take everything there is to take in the vault, I'll turn myself in. That sound good?"

"Ooh, that means you'll get to be a Ward!" Clockblocker said, happily. "But I'm not satisfied. How about a date? If we succesfully immobilize you, we'll go on a date."

Laughing once more, I shook my head. "You're incorrigible, Clock. I accept your challenge. If you win, I'll go on a date with you."

"Awesome!" Clock said. "Okay, guys, now we gotta do this for honor!"

"I have half a mind," Glory Girl began, from where she was floating not far from us, "to beat him up first for the wasted time," she said.

"Don't worry," I said, turning to her. "Though I would say, there is still a chance to back out. Don't want you to be humiliated like last time, after all~!"

Glory Girl is a colossal bitch.

I caught her throwing a dumpster at a guy. A fucking dumpster, full of garbage, at a normal human being. She's a fucking psychopath, and I wouldn't be shocked to learn she and Sophia are best buddies. Yeah, the guy was a fucking nazi, I get that, but she could've killed him! If I hadn't stopped the dumpster, discretely naturally, she WOULD have killed him! Instead it only hit one of the man's legs.

My sympathy for nazis doesn't stretch very far you see.

So the first time we had fought, I had decided that I might as well teach her a lesson, and stripped her of the shorts she wears under her little dress, as well as the underwear beneath. I didn't exactly want to advertise how powerful I actually am, and it disabled her pretty nicely. She couldn't fly around for fear of her genitals being exposed to the onlookers, and it was hilarious to make her chase her underwear around.

I'm pretty sure that video is still making the rounds on all sharing services.

She seemed to have changed her clothes accordingly, now wearing tights under her dress instead, likely assuming I can't strip her from those. She's cracking her knuckles.

"I'll pay you back for that! Maybe I'll strip you entirely naked to show you how it felt!"

I laughed. "You know, I just got done telling, and showing, Clockblocker that I've been holding back. Tell me, Glory Girl, how strong do you really think I am?"

"Not strong enough," she shouted as she rushed me.

Then she was held in place for an instant, before the force of her powers ripped through her clothes and she continued without them.

She shrieked. I was nice this time, however, and allowed her to keep her underwear.

Just because she's a fucking psychopath who deserves every bit of the humiliation she's getting, doesn't mean I have to be an ass about it.

I wadded up her ruined costume, into a tightly pressed ball, and struck her in the back with it, forcing her to the ground. The ball became unwound and the strips of cloth tore apart even further before tying themselves into a rope that I proceeded to wrap around her.

I could see Aegis rushing at me, so I grabbed onto the asphalt below me and forced it to rise, but I never felt or saw him hit it, even though I'd raised it too close for him to dodge.

I looked at a nearby lamp post. Vista smiled and waved.

"Huh. Clever girl," I said. Just outside the range they believe I'm limited to.

Vista's about as friendly with me as Clockblocker is. For all that Aegis and Gallant utterly despise me, the former because I'm a villain, presumably, and the latter because I humiliate his girlfriend routinely, I get along pretty well with Clockblocker, Vista and Shadow Stalker. I'm fairly sure Kid Win is apathetic regarding me, since he doesn't seem to care very much either way.

Still, fight wasn't over. I grabbed onto more asphalt and created a shield, putting it between me and Kid Win's drive-by lasering, preventing the hard light from striking me.

The wall of concrete in front of me received a pretty hard punch, and I could feel the control of it be wrestled from me for an instant. I decided to let it go and watched it crumble. A veritable mountain of a human being, with muscles on muscles, a roided out monstrosity, stumbled past it. "So that's what interacting with another telekinetic is like," he said.

"Oh, you're a new one. I'm afraid I don't know you," I said, evenly.

"My name's Browbeat, yeah, I'm pretty new," he admitted. "Just recently joined up. Uhm... is this a thing? I mean-"

"If you're asking about if this is how the Wards usually operate, then no. From what I know, they rarely get into combat, and I doubt you'll be deployed against me or my team again," I admitted, gesturing with my hand to create another shield to block Kid Win's guns, while using my other hand to slam Aegis into the ground when he tried to fly and flank me, dragging him by his clothes.

I felt, more than saw, Glory Girl rise behind me, her modesty apparently left behind, ready to attack me.

The rope of cloth I'd made was still on her, though she'd torn apart the bits on her wrists. I smiled and balled a bit of loose cloth into a fist of sorts, and punched her in the chin with it. The first time had no effect, but the second knocked her for a loop. I had felt her forcefield shatter under the impact. One of the benefits of being telekinetic is the awareness of all things around me, and while it's invisible, her force field IS a physical thing that can be felt.

I could also easily tell when Gallant and Aegis were attempting to do a two pronged attack, on both of my sides, while the new guy charged.

"I mean, today is the day I decided to stop playing around, after all."

With a wave of my hand, I let out a wave of telekinetic force that shattered the windows and glass doors of the bank behind me, and sent all the capes rushing in my direction flying back. I grabbed onto Glory Girl by the cloth still on her, as she was flying up, and put her in the way of Gallant's blast.

She instantly went mellow. Huh. Her force field apparently doesn't work against Gallant's attacks.

Interesting.

Either way... Clockblocker would have to be disappointed.

The fight resumed.

I smiled.

* * *

I had half a mind to write an omake where Taylor and Dennis go on a date anyway.

I chose not to because I ran out of inspiration.

For the record, ideas for the future included homages to Terrible Tornado, AKA Tatsumaki, AKA that telekinetic chick from OPM, such as her dropping a meteor on Leviathan, stopping thousands of bullets at the same time, etc.

Incidentally, while it looks like I'd be following the stations of the canon, I did dodge the Lung fight, and the immediate aftermath of the bank job would have been Taylor losing her shit over the kidnapping of Dinah. To the point of having a VERY bad break with the Undersiders (especially because she has a much better image of them than she does in canon, as here she's basically convinced that Tattletale is a kind person and being presented with a Tattletale who's willing to let a kid suffer like Dinah did would result in Taylor feeling horribly betrayed) and striking out on her own.

I wasn't entirely certain whether she'd remain as a solo independant, join up with the Protectorate or form her own team. I was leaning towards the last one, with her teammates being Dinah and Parian. That last one would've had an embittered Taylor who's more interested in making money than she is in pursuing justice. Dinah would see her as her personal heroine, much like how Taylor used to see Tattletale, and Parian would basically stick with her for protection.

Of course, the law DOES still come after her from time to time, and naturally Brockton Bay has villains that are entirely too willing to stick their necks out for their own safety, so of course there'd be plenty of conflict. I got no plans for how to deal with Zion tho.


	21. To Absolve

**To Absolve**

* * *

Summary: It only takes three words to completely break Emma Barnes.

* * *

"What's wrong, Taylor? Are you going to go cry yourself to sleep for a week, like you did when your mother died? You little-"

"I forgive you."

Emma stopped, mid tirade. She blinked, her eyes almost owlish as she attempted to puzzle out what happened.

"I forgive you," Taylor repeated, drolly.

"Did she go nuts?" someone asked.

"Everything you've said. Everything you've done. _I forgive you."_

Said her piece, Taylor Hebert walked away.

Behind her, Emma Barnes shattered.

* * *

This struck me while I was listening to TFS's parody of the title song for the Hamilton play.

There are many, MANY fics where Taylor makes up with Emma or deals with the so called Bitch Trio in various ways.

But honestly, I think Father Alexander's words, from TFS's parody of Hellsing Ultimate, are the best to use against her.

Let's see how many people figure out -why- I think that. It's not that difficult an idea.


	22. Paladin

**Paladin**

* * *

Summary: Sometimes, being Taylor Hebert is suffering. Other times, you get to kill demons, so she has that going for her, which is nice.

* * *

For Samuel Roberts, Religion was a way of life. Raised by a former catholic priest, he had always been a very pious man. One of his happiest moments in life was when he had been to the Vatican, and through what some would call sheer dumb luck and others would call providence of the Lord, he had held a conversation with the very Pope himself, after which he had been gifted with a small phial of holy water, sanctified by the holiest man on Earth himself.

This was why, when a horde of demons attacked his hometown of Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, USA, he did not panic, he did not scream, even as his family huddled in terror behind him. Instead, he grabbed at the phial and his most well loved Bible, and confronted the hellish invader.

It balked when he denounced it in the name of the Lord, in the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, the holy Trinity. It screeeched in agony when he cornered it against a closed window.

It was strong enough to kill him if it got close still, however, but he had the phial.

Now was the time. Now was the time to prove that the power of God was supreme.

Thanking the lord for this most wonderful of gifts, preparing him for when the time came, he threw the phial of holy water, with all his might, trusting the Lord would guide it to land on target.

It did not. Instead the metallic cap of the phial went through the window behind the demonic adversary that faced him, and Samuel Roberts knew it landed, likely breaking and splashing its contents, on the alley that separated his apartment building with the one beside it.

"Oh fu-"

And then the demon tore him and his family apart, before devouring their carcasses.

* * *

Not two months after, Taylor Hebert, Emma Barnes and Madison Clements found themselves cornered in that same alley by a different demon. This one with the body of a man and the head of a goat, with empty sockets for eyes, yet it could still see.

It was also inexplicably hung like a horse, and they knew this because it wore nothing to conseal its genitalia.

It also did absolutely nothing to conceal its intentions. Through a reverberating, barely understandable gargle of a voice, it explained what it would do to them. It seemed wholly unenthusiastic about killing and raping them, in that order.

Madison had apparently tried to convince it to just have sex with them without killing them, but it was a necrophiliac, which meant that plan was a bust.

It cornered them in the alley and went after Emma first, knocking her into a wall. Madison was next, as he grabbed her and tore her clothes off first.

She was wearing leather underwear, and Taylor wondered how she could even do that without chafing or something.

As it approached Taylor herself, however, she saw a length of pipe that had a sharp end, as it had been torn from the wall improperly.

When it grabbed her by one leg and lifted her, she had the pipe in her hand, and when it was about to slam her to the ground, likely killing her, she moved first, stabbing its crotch with the sharp end of the pipe.

The demon seemed amused at first. Taylor hadn't really been listening, but she had heard it mention some sort of invulnerability against mundane weapons.

It certainly wasn't laughing when her improvised weapon stabbed through its crotch. And it was screaching in agony, having tossed her away, when its crotch suddenly caught fire.

And that was how Taylor killed her very first demon, whose name she never learned.

When the Protectorate showed up with an exorcist, Emma and Madison were hugging Taylor and thanking her for saving their lives, while Taylor held the pipe like it was the greatest holy weapon handed down from God Himself.

* * *

Jaime Rodriguez was a devout man. He went to mass every sunday. He read his Bible every Thursday. He raised his children to be proper and god fearing.

It only took five minutes for the first Succubus to cross his path to seduce him. It took two for him to promise to hand her his own children, both boys, for her to feed upon.

The father and his children were feeding the Succubus for a week, approaching the end of their lives as they simply could not give any more, and she would soon dispose of them.

Yet, she was not entirely unkind, and so she gave as much pleasure as she received, and took on the whole family at once.

That was the scene Taylor walked in on, with all four engaged in rather obscene acts.

"Who are you!?" the Succubus asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the cassock-wearing Taylor.

Smiling, Taylor used her middle finger to push her glasses into place and flip off the demon. "My name is Taylor Hebert, you crazy demonic bastard."

"I'm a woman," the Succubus protested.

"Call yourself whatever you want you crazy demonic bastard," Taylor continued. "I've come here to deliver unto you the love of the LORD!" she said, pointing at her with the Holy Pipe of Demon Extermination, patent pending. "I absolve you from your sins, in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit!"

"You will DI-"

The Succubus' words were cut off, as her throat now contained an excessive amount of Holy Lead Pipe.

The man removed himself from the bleeding corpses, and helped his children off.

"Amen," Taylor said, grinning widely to herself. She held out her hand and her weapon returned to it.

"Oh, thank you, Lord, for sending your champion to our rescue!" the man said.

Taylor glared at him. "You are soiled, despoiled, broken. Seek refuge and pray the Lord may have mercy upon your soul," she said, and then walked away.

* * *

"I," Taylor began, "used to be the victim of bullies. Every day, without fail, they would gather together to find their joy in erradicating mine."

Everyone looked at her.

"And then the Lord said, 'NO MORE!' and so they were punished, shown the error of their ways, as the very devil that they imitated sent one of his pawns to bring upon them their just desserts! But the Lord forgives, and the Lord saves! The Lord showed me the way, to earn not their destruction, but their love, respect and adoration! Indeed, today I stand before you, welcoming our new sisters, having completed adequate training! I welcome amongst our number, Emma Barnes, she who was my own personal Judas, and Madison Clements, her sycophantic follower!"

"But Paladin," someone protested, "were they not your torturers?"

"Do not presume arrogance of that sort, Theo," Taylor said, wagging her finger. "It is not within our rights or privilege to lay judgment upon another. To Judge is a task and obligation for the Divine, for those without the trappings of man, for those who may see without our bias, weakness or blindness! No, it is not our duty nor right, and therefore, I shall abstain from judging those who have wronged me in the past, for only the Lord may Judge! Indeed, Judgment is a privilege of the divine!"

"But still, Paladin," someone else added, "would you not say that teaching them your ways, granting them your strength, was going too far in the other direction?"

"Perhaps it might be so, Carlos," Taylor said, looking at the boy she had rescued from a Succubus alongside his father and older brother. "Hear me, Iscariot! Judgment is a task for the divine, but forgiveness? Forgiveness is indeed, a trait all too human! Remember this well!"

The group of five dozen demon hunters, formed not long after the demonic invasion of Earth had begun in earnest, shouted in approval.

The common man and woman, gathered together by the common goal of kicking the invaders out of their home, centered on a young girl. Quite an interesting situation. Even those formerly thought of as demons or monsters, the Parahumans that had seen so much hate, had joined under her banner.

* * *

"We do not ask for your poor or your hungry," Emma stated, her sword slicing through the kevlar vest like it wasn't even there, splitting the man in half. She quickly backed away from the hail of gunfire, "we do not want your tired and sick. It is your corrupt we claim!"

Fourteen men quickly piled into the room, unleashing a hail of gunfire upon the gathered members of Iscariot, most of whom hit cover, though quite a few were riddled full of holes and filled with lead.

"It is your evil that will be sought by us!" Madison continued, as she threw a handful of small iron spheres into the air. The armored men seemed to scramble for a moment, but before they could move, the spheres seemed to ignite and explode, spreading their bodies over the entrance they had broken through. "With every breath we shall hunt them down. Every day, we will spill their blood! Until it rains down from the skies!" she spoke.

"DO NOT KILL! DO NOT RAPE! DO NOT STEAL!" the bulk of Iscariot shouted, the demonic imps that flooded the room choosing that moment to attack, only to be slaughtered by the holy weapons of Iscariot.

"These are principles which every man, of every faith, can embrace!" Emma continued, jumping up into the balcony that looked over the main dance hall of the palace they were assaulting. Once she landed on the rail, she flashed her sword, a Japanese katana that she had picked up originally for its symbolic value to her, and beheaded a fat, piglike demon, as well as his three human guards. "These are not polite suggestions! These are codes of behavior!"

She knew that behind her, three men with assault rifles were taking aim, but she found no fear.

Madison's handguns, both high caliber pistols, unleashed their fury on those men, the bullets ripping through their body armor like it was tissue. "Those of you who ignore them, shall pay the dearest cost!" Madison shouted.

Emma smirked.

"There are varying degrees of evil," Emma explained.

"We urge you, lesser forms of filth," Madison said, gesturing with her pistols at the gathered people, all of whom varied in looks from the fabulously wealthy to even working men and women, as well as the prostitutes that had been arranged for their entertainment. "Do not push the bounds! Do not cross over into true corruption!"

"Into our domain," Emma said, closing her eyes. She kept her ears open, however, and was more than able to hear the armed guards that were using a special weapon, tinker-made, to peer through the walls. She moved first, and her sword went through the concrete with ease, slicing into the man behind it, splitting his head in half and destroying the scope of the weapon, rendering its piercing power pointless. A flick of her sword left a scar on the wall and a destroyed rifle as well.

"If you do, one day you will look behind you and you will see Iscariot!" Madison crowed, as she reloaded and let loose another barrage, upon a closed door. It broke, and four men, dying, crashed through it. "And you will reap what you have sown!"

"WE WILL SEND YOU TO YOUR GOD!" the members of Iscariot crowed,

"And shepherds we shall be, for thee, O Lord, for thee, power hath descended forth from thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command!" Emma chanted.

"We shall flow a river forth to thee, and teeming with souls it shall ever be," Madison finished, solemnly.

Both Emma and Madison converged into the main hall, as the Leader of Iscariot walked into the room and threw a man in. His head was shaven. He bore finery and highly expensive clothes. He had been the leader of the organization that had been seduced by the power of the Devil, who had fallen headfirst into corruption.

Their target.

"In nomine Patris," Taylor said.

"Et fillis," Emma continued.

"Et spiritus sancti," Madison spoke.

"Amen," Taylor finished.

And so the leader of the Empire 88 was delivered unto the Lord.

* * *

The corruptor and corrupted stared in awe, as Deliverance approached.

"W-Who... who are you?"

Taylor grinned.

"Taylor Hebert," she said. "My name is Taylor Hebert."

She closed her eyes.

"And I like killing things because it's fun," she said. "So just you pray, just you pray~"

* * *

Hm. So someone suggested giving Taylor the powers of the Monster of God, but I feel like there's no real need for that.

A holy chunk of metal, the ability to heal quickly from wounds through an unexplained method (totally nanobots tho) and an enemy to slaughter is all she needs.

Also can't make a proper reference to TFS's Anderson without quoting Boondocks Saints. Though I have to admit I am ashamed I had to look up the courtroom speech 'cause I couldn't remember it well enough to write it from memory. It's been years, people! Like, more than ten at least!


	23. Nethersiders

**Nethersiders**

* * *

Summary: Brockton Bay could barely handle the Undersiders as normal parahumans, and it sure as heck can't handle the Nethersiders.

* * *

Brian Laborn had once been the Parahuman known as Grue.

Today, however, he was the Demon Overlord known as Grue. Apparently, 'Brian' just wasn't a cool enough sounding name for an Overlord, so he had adopted his cape name as his given name. His sister, Aisha, however, had chosen to keep hers. She was widely known in Brian's domain as Demon Lord Aisha the Phantasmal.

Demon Lord, hah. That's what Brian thought his title would be, originally. He understood that while he was nominally the leader of the Undersiders, he had never truly been in charge. He was more of a field captain at best, a mediator sometimes, but never really a leader. He could never see himself leading an organization.

And yet here he was. Admittedly, he had his post because his first pick had told him in no uncertain terms that there was no way she would be usurping his 'rightful' role (and she had been entirely honest about that, to make matters worse) and his second pick had actually convinced him that he was wrong when he tried to explain his reasoning for suggesting her.

In the end, Brian was the one chosen to be the public face of their Netherworld, and so he did. Alec, Aisha and Rachel had quickly made names for themselves.

It was strange to think that the two whom Brian considered arguably the most dangerous members of the Undersiders were not very well known. It made some twisted degree of sense. Generally speaking, by the time anyone learned of Taylor's existence, they were already under her absolute control or dead, and by the time you were done untangling the knot of all three hundred fake identities Lisa had created in her time as a demon, you were likely back at the start, thinking her name is Pedro or something.

Sometimes even Brian had trouble keeping track of them, especially because the two of them had become a sort of team, hunting down upstart Demon Lords and feeding him their locations while at the same time dealing with any of their defenses so that he could just swoop in and take in the big showy publicty stunt that was putting down a rebellion.

Life was pretty nice as a demon... but it came with a caveat.

He had been taught enough by the old scholars of the Demonic Library in the castle they had stolen to know that the Undersiders, as an ensemble cast of Main Characters, would likely live in interesting times, as per the Chinese curse. And he knew what would happen, as Aisha and Alec had come up with the most likely scenario when their circumstances were revealed to them.

As soon as they learned they had been thrown ten years into the past, Alec had said that they'd have to go to Earth Bet for one reason or another to show up at exactly two seconds after Bakuda seemingly destroyed them with her untested bomb.

So they did.

Unfortunately, by then, Brian had gotten used to being an Overlord and had almost forgotten how to Human.

So he was a bit confused when people protested him dropping his castle on the abandoned warehouse district.

* * *

"Zion just left," Contessa said. "And my agent told me exactly why. There's something on Earth that spooked it so badly that it just picked up its toys, whatever it could grab, and then just left. Went as far away as it could, as fast as it could."

"So what you're telling me," Doctor Mother stated, "is that there's something on Earth Bet that is worse than Zion."

"Maybe? My Agent can't foresee the destruction of All Earths as far as it can calculate, so there's a positive at least?"

* * *

"Dad, I'm a demon."

Danny Hebert spat water all over his daughter.

"WHAT!?"

* * *

"Dad, I'm a demon!"

Heartbreaker spat blood all over his son.

"And you're dead! Weeee!"

* * *

"Mom, I'm a demon."

The woman formerly known as Mrs. Laborn groaned something unintelligible. Aisha smiled.

Her mother's current boyfriend reached out to touch her. "Oh, did I mention I'm stronger than Alexandria now? Because I am."

* * *

"Mom, Dad, I'm a demon."

"Sarah, stop your nonsense right this instant and-" there was a crash and a scream.

"By the by? I also stole all your money, and the police should be there about ten seconds ago," Lisa said. "I'll see if I can pick you up when you become Prinnies. Who knows, we might even make decent people out of you."

* * *

"I'm a demon."

Rachel looked down at her dogs.

She smiled. She knew they wouldn't care, as they dogpiled her, recognizing her despite the different scent.

* * *

"Dad, I'm a demon," Brian said.

"Whatever," his father said, "raise your fists."

Brian laid him out with one punch.

* * *

"Man, ten years of experience dealing with backstabbing asshats and demons really gives you perspective," Taylor said, "I was an idiot to ever think I could pull off the double agent routine at that age, especially when my contact was this douche."

"Miss, how did you get here?" the obviously false voice of Dragon said.

"I do what I want," Taylor said, smiling brightly. "Speaking of which, I'm here to beat up Shadow Stalker because Demons are petty and I love it. Would you direct me to her please?"

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," Dragon said.

"Look, I can literally erase all life on Earth with like, a flick of my wrist. I'm not even joking," Taylor said.

"I have trouble believing that," Dragon said.

"Okay, fine. Direct me to a window then."

Dragon did as asked, apparently out of curiosity. "What for?"

Taylor pointed a hand at the distant moon.

* * *

"AND THEN THE FUCKING MOON WAS ON FIRE COLIN. JUST LIKE THAT. SHE FLICKS HER WRIST AND THE FUCKING MOON IS ON FUCKING FIRE."

Dragon was frantic, swearing, and acting entirely unlike herself.

But then again...

 _"Armsmaster the moon is on fire what the fuck is going on"_

Assault burst through the door. "Can you tell me what the fuck is going on in ten words or less?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Armsmaster screamed.

"You did it in three, didn't think ya had it in ya," Assault said.

Battery showed up and smacked him upside the head.

* * *

 _"Taylor what the fuck."_

Shrugging, Taylor sat on the Undersi- she thought about it. "Hey, how about we change the name? We're definitely not 'under'dogs anymore. How about Nethersiders?"

"I like it," Alec said. "And people won't get it, so that means I'm even more in."

"Well I'm totes going to use my title as a cape name, so I'm all in on that too," Aisha said.

"Taylor, I repeat my earlier question," Brian said.

"Well it seemed like a good idea at the time? Besides you can't tell me that beating up Shadow Stalker isn't therapeutic."

"I think it's unhealthy how much you hate her," Alec said, "and I literally murdered my father and like half my siblings."

"Guys. It's Shadow Stalker," Taylor insisted. "Remember the couch, man."

"That couch was like a father to me," Alec said, nodding solemnly. "Okay, I retract myself. In fact, I think I'm going to go beat her up myself."

"Ooh, ooh, can I go? I've been meaning to practice my healing magic~!" Aisha said.

"Just," Brian said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "just promise me that you won't go far enough that she'll suffer off her sins. I promised Lord Valvatorez I would try to send him a few exceptional souls for Prinnies, and you know how he gets with promises."

The others nodded.

"'kay!" Aisha said, as Alec rushed out to the Protectorate base.

"And as for you," Brian said, "I think... yeah, I know a way or two of punishing you for that, Taylor..."

* * *

"This," Lisa said, "is called Holy Fuckfire," she said. "It was invented by the Demon Overlord," and then she seemed like she was trying to speak through a throat made of razor wire, like she was trying to pronounce a mute letter thirty times, "for the purpose of the murderization of planets. The particulars of its use are irrelevant. What is relevant, however, is that the one who used Holy Fuckfire on the surface of the moon has been chastised for her actions."

The reporters crowded around her.

"By which I mean she has been appropriately spanked," she said, "and yes, it was just as lewd as your fanfiction says it was," she said. "However, while we're here, I'd like to announce for everyone that the Nethersiders will be holding a tournament! People may register on their own or as a team! We will be waiting for all challengers in Brockton Bay, show up at the Rig and ask for Jenny, she'll tell you what to do. The particulars are very simple. We shall confront everyone who comes to do so. Should you achieve victory in combat against the Nethersiders, we will grant you whatever boon you request of us! However, should nobody achieve victory within the timeframe of, let's say three years after the first contender is defeated, we will conquer the planet and sell it off to the highest bidder!"

A blue stuffed penguin approached Lisa, to the sound of camera shutters. It whispered something in her ear, and she perked up.

"Oh, and also, Bitch has told me to tell you that one of her dogs has gone missing. If someone knows where we can find Hookwolf, they'll have a first row seat to watch him getting punted to the moon! That will be all, thank you, and Rupert, your boyfriend is cheating on you with your brother, his husband and your pet dog Wooflees. Good night. Also no, I don't know whose idea it was to name a girl 'Rupert'... Ahem, good night, for reals this time."

* * *

"I, for one," Fortuna said, "welcome our new Demonic Overlords," she said.

"Okay, no more Aleph TV for you," Doctor Mother said, dryly.

* * *

This is kind of a Disgaea cross, and yes, the Nethersiders are acting completely silly for no other reason than because they can.

They're new at this whole Demon'ing thing, but they've got the Lady of Munchkinery and the living, breathing, humanoid plot device known as Tattletale on their side. They'll be fine.


	24. Quest for the Grail I

**Quest For The Grail I**

* * *

Summary: Just because everything can always get worse, when you think your city's had enough with the gangs and crime in general, there's always the possibility that some madman will host a Grail War in your lawn.

* * *

A girl with red hair that was closer to a vivid orange than the red it looked like in the penumbra walked alone through the streets of Brockton Bay.

The bombed, burned, frozen, glassed and otherwise destroyed Carmello Street, destroyed, abandoned and somehow still inhabited buildings on both sides of her. She walked in the middle of the street, for she knew she should not fear cars. Given the fact that she had to step around craters nearly as deep as she was tall, as well as various potholes, she knew no car would come through this street.

She frowned as she looked and saw tank tracks, of all things, littering the walkway. She approached the only standing street light, the only one still functioning, and sighed.

Bringing one of her arms up, she spoke into it in Japanese, but the only answer she received was in static.

She sighed. She tried once more, but the answer was the same. She looked around for a moment, and saw the closest other functioning street light. Looking down at the ground to make sure she wasn't walking into any hole, and even then walking slowly, testing each step as she took it, she headed towards it.

* * *

Her lonely trek through the bombed out streets would not last long.

As soon as she was into an area that hadn't seen war recently, she was approached by a couple of men in red and green jackets. They had knives visible, and one of them was carrying a concealed weapon. Based on their features, she figured they were Asian American, and on a gamble, she tried talking to them.

They understood her words, and answered her query.

She was in Brockton Bay, NH, USA, they explained. And she was also a very pretty Asian girl in an Asian Gang's territory.

Another would've been terrified by the implication.

She, however, smiled. Openly, she asked them if they would attempt to kidnap her or something.

They admitted that they didn't usually go after Asians, but it'd been a while since they'd had any because of the ongoing gang war. When she denied their request for a foursome with the three men that had approached her, as well as taking each of them individually, they backed off, surprisingly.

Apparently, her clothes and attitude told them that she was a 'cape'. The explanation for that term would wait. They did, however, offer to take her to their leader.

And so they did.

* * *

Kenta, no last name known, also known as the Parahuman Crimelord Lung, let out a lungful of smoke. "You will be in my gang," he had said, brooking no argument.

Her emphatic no seemed to amuse him.

It didn't take long for him to make his intentions clear. He would either have her join willingly or unwillingly. He would find a way to twist her to his whims. Were it targetting a loved one for ransom or simply having her be tortured until her will broke.

She sat on the couch he had provided for her, in one of his nightclubs, apparently he had decided to let her have a glimpse at the benefits of working with him willingly, and he left, willing to let her think over his offer in private. Well, as private as a nightclub can be, even on a relatively slow night.

Waving off the half naked server, she merely contented herself with drinking her tea. It wasn't horrible, but it certainly left much to be desired. She knew there were guards posted on the entrance and the back door, the only exits of this place. The windows were too high to reach normally.

He would be back in an hour.

* * *

When Kenta arrived at his Nightclub, he expected to find the orange haired cape on her own.

When it came down to it, he found the young girl quite attractive, and was rather hoping that she would reject his offer. While he was not usually one to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh - killing and violence had always been much more of a thrill for him - he could not deny that he found some excitement in the thought of breaking her like a twig upon his flesh.

She was slender, without exaggerated features like the American girls he had become accustomed to over time. The change of pace would be nice.

When Kenta arrived at his Nightclub, he did not find the orange haired cape on her own.

In fact, he did not find the place like he had left it. When he left, the party was raging in the main floor, because someone was celebrating his birthday. Strippers were on the stage, alcohol was flowing, and more importantly, money was pouring into his coffers.

When he arrived, the party was over. People were strewn around, unconscious. His men were hurt, defeated. His money stolen. His prize...

Sat there, drinking tea, like nothing had happened, in the VIP table he had given her.

With her there were children, and truly, they were children. A black boy. An effeminate boy. A butch girl. A feminine blonde. That was as far as he cared to identify them. They were not, after all, important to him in the end. Nor did he really care about the dogs that were laid on the ground, sleeping soundly. Kenta had never been one for pets.

"What," he bellowed in Japanese, "the fuck," he continued in English.

"Nani the fuck?" one of them muttered.

"Are you sure that this isn't going to end with all of us dead?" another asked.

"Keep calm," the orange haired cape said. "Kenta. I am afraid I will have to reject your offer."

"Then you will break," Kenta said, simply. There really wasn't much more there.

She smiled. Between him and her there were twelve feet of emptiness. They were suddenly filled by the arrival of an European man with long brown hair, exotic, dragon-themed armor and a strangely shaped sword. "I am the Guardian Knight, Georgios."

"I am Lung," Lung stated, simply.

The orange haired cape sipped more tea from her cup.

Battle was joined when she put it down.

* * *

Maybe I'll continue this one at some point...

Basically, Brockton Bay is a Singularity, and Fujimaru Ritsuka is trying to fix it while being cut off from communications. She's still able to summon her servants, but she can't communicate with Chaldea except by sending the servants back with messages.

Also, I decided to try a spin on a frequent Station of Canon, so instead of arriving at the most frequent point, the Taylor Vs Lung fight, Ritsuka hit the scene at the time the Undersiders hit Lung. For the record, they hit the nightclub because Lisa (wrongly) deduced that the ABB was storing something important there with all the added security. Well, not entirely wrongly, she did correctly guess that the ABB was guarding something important, she just thought it'd be money.

Also Beowulf kicked the Undersiders' asses, if you're wondering, and the reason they're all sitting down is because they're more scared of Ritsuka and her overpowered warriors than they are of Lung.


	25. Mastercop of the Dark Meal

**Mastercop of the Dark Meal**

* * *

Summary: When Mouse Protector affected her goofy character, Colin Wallis' response was "Hold m'beer!", even though he was sixteen and couldn't legally drink at the time.

* * *

Colin Wallis screamed in triumph. "YES! YES!" he shouted, as he began to cackle maniacally, "IT IS COMPLETE! MY ARMSMASTERPIECE IS COMPLETE!"

He could outright hear Dragon facepalming all the way from Canada.

Then he unveiled his ultimate weapon, and Dragon looked at the oddly shapped bazooka-like weapon he had hefted onto his shoulder.

"Colin what am I looking at? I've looked at the blueprints and the code you wrote, but none of it makes any sense."

"It's coded so only I can understand it," Colin said.

"... Is it?" Dragon asked, her avatar frowning. "Colin did you forget how to write like normal people again?"

"YES!" Colin said, putting one of his hands on his hip and grinning eagerly. "I have decided that legibility is for dorks so I won't use any!"

"... The things I do for love..." Dragon said. "You know what, I'll decipher it and submit it to the board for approval. You go have fun."

"EXCELLENT!" Colin said. "Now, what armor to wear," he said, opening his closet doors.

He looked at each armor in turn. "Hm... Zebra Stripes is always a classic, but I wore it last week... BDSM cop is okay, but I think it's better for special occasions... Rainbowmaster is a bit cliché... Oh, yes, PERFECT!" he said, picking a green suit. "TODAY I AM PICKLEMASTER!"

Dragon giggled. "I'm glad you're having fun."

Picklemaster nodded, grabbed his green afro wig, and put it on. On top of his helmet, which it attached to through magnets or some shit.

Fuck if he could remember how his armor worked.

* * *

"This, is my Armsmasterpiece," Picklemaster said.

"Arms... masterpiece?" the obviously villainous villain questioned.

"No, Armsmaster Piece," Picklemaster corrected. "Now you will be defeated by the power of my awesomeness!"

"Uh... but... I'm like, a hero you know?" the obviously villainous hero stated.

"I AM SO GREAT I TURNED YOU INTO A HERO JUST BY SHOWING UP! GODDAMN I'M AWESOME!"

"Mister are you drunk," the obviously villainous Hero asked.

"YES! But only a little!"

"Go home, Picklemaster, you're drunk..."

* * *

Lung roared, as he challenged the Armsmasterpiece.

Then it charged up, made a noise like the one the Kamehameha from Dragonball makes, and light began to flood from the big weapon's barrel.

Roaring more, Lung charged, and Picklemaster fired.

Lung was hit by something and sent flying back. He hit the ground and everyone looked at him.

He had been hit by a pie. He removed it from his face and threw it away in disgust. "Who the fuck," he began, "makes a goddamn pickle pie!?"

"I AM PICKLEMASTER!"

" _Of fucking course_ " Lung said in Japanese.

* * *

Kaiser was apparently holding up a Gay Pride Parade. Who the fuck chose to hold a Gay Pride Parade in the middle of the Nazi Capital of the USA was a question for another time.

Colin knew that he had an opportunity like no other. "Today," he stopped and coughed to clear his throat, and pushed a button with his cheek to make a microphone come out of the side of his visor, as well as a large speaker from his back, "I AM CAPTAIN C, THE GAYMASTER!" he crowed, standing at the top of the tallest float.

Then he aimed his gun at Kaiser.

"TASTE THE RAINBOW MOTHERFUCKER!"

And then Kaiser was gay.

* * *

Armsmaster woke up.

"Colin? Is something wrong? Your heartrocket skyrated," Dragon said. Then her avatar blinked. "I mean-"

"I know what you meant, Dragon," Colin said, his voice serious and quite angry. "I- just- just a bad dream," he said.

"Okay, then. I suggest you finish up here and go to sleep, your health will suffer for it otherwise," Dragon said.

"Are you kidding? I just got a bunch of new ideas. The creative juices are flowing!"

Dragon laughed. "Okay, okay. Just- look after yourself, okay?"

Colin nodded. "Too bad the Gayinator only had the one shot in it," he said, rubbing his chin. "Hm... wonder if I can make a picke gatling gun for the Picklemaster suit..."

* * *

I just felt like writing a silly Armsmaster. Again.


	26. Swing to the Beat

**Swing to the Beat**

* * *

Summary: Because powers can be badass, powers can be lame and powers can be silly, as Taylor has learned. Or: That One Time I Tried To Make An Original Altpower

* * *

Taylor frowned.

How, exactly, could she use her newly gained Power to get revenge on Emma?

Well, as it turns out, pretty damned easily.

It only took a bit of time to find the right accompanyment...

* * *

Conscripting Sparky was pretty easy. Guy would do anything for a ricecake. She personally didn't know what he saw in them, she thought they were pretty disgusting.

Not the ricecakes per se, just the ones he liked. Low quality garbage.

He had a boombox, and he wasn't afraid to bring it to school. He also had the right cassette tape, apparently it was pretty old. Either way, Taylor was in such a great mood that she actually took a bottle of grape juice that was about to get dumped on her and instead drank the contents, thanking the surprised Bully along the way for the refreshing drink.

Too much sugar, though.

Finally, the right time came, when there'd be the most people. Lunch.

Where she'd have a free shot at Emma, along with her hangers and pets.

So she walked up to them, but not before shouting a command at Sparky to "hit it", as he had told her to do.

He did so.

"Well, what do we have here? I think she's getting kinky, coming for her everyday punishment," Emma joked.

Taylor took a deep breath.

"At first I was a fraid, I was petrified... Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side..."

She spoke to the beat of the song that Sparky was blasting from his boombox, getting more and more in tune by the word, until she was perfectly in tune with the original singer. This left the bullies quite distracted.

"But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong... I grew strong... And I learned how to get along."

She stepped on their table, taking care to use the bench as a footstool, then she pointed at Emma, narrowing her eyes and glaring almost balefully at her.

"And now you're back, from outer space. I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face! I should've changed that stupid lock, I should've made you leave your key, if I had known for just one second you'd be back to bother me!"

There were comments, but they hardly distracted her, she turned around, walked off and sniffed, then pointed at the nearest exit.

"Go on now, walk out the door. Just turn around."

"Wha- why-" Emma tried, but she was cut off.

"'Cause you're not welcome here anymore!"

"What the fuck are you-"

Taylor smirked. "Weren't you the one who tried to break me with goodbye?"

Emma blinked.

"Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die?"

"Well you did," Sophia blurted out.

"Oh no, not I! I will survive! For as long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive!"

Taylor took a few steps away from the table, then gestured at a few boys. They were part of the dance club. They probably knew how to move. They seemed to understand where she was going, and came up to join her.

"I've got all my life to live, I've got all my love to give! I'll survive, I WILL survive!"

* * *

"So you're a Master and Shaker," Miss Militia said. "And your power is... what, exactly? I don't think I got an accurate idea from the write up."

"Well, I can lead people into dance and song numbers?" Taylor tried. "I mean, it's a bit more complex than that, but the gist of it is that I basically make musical montages, except in real life, and apparently my power handles all the sound tuning and stuff so it sounds good even though physics say it really shouldn't."

Miss Militia rubbed her chin. "That is quite interesting," she said, and was actually being genuine. "Well- actually, do you do requests? I'm scheduled to train with the wards, and it'd be an excellent opportunity to test your powers more thoroughly, in a different environment than the laboratory."

Taylor nodded. While she was very sick of power testing by this point, especially because everyone was afraid of her ability to master living human beings, this sounded fun."

* * *

 _"Hearts on Fire! Strong desire!"_

Who would've known she could even sound like a man, should she do a different kind of song?

Either way, she led the Wards, Assault, Battery, the recently graduated Triumph and Armsmaster through a series of exercises, including actual combat practice as well as a run through the city in lieu of patrols that day. As it turned out, training under the effects of her power was _ludicrous_. Even though she had put them through exercise that should've left them looking more like jello than humans, they were refreshed when it ended, and more importantly, they were showing noticeable, immediate progress.

Hell, Vista had somehow managed to learn to Kickbox _in one single fucking afternoon,_ and that wasn't even getting into how Kid Win went from 'stereotypical skinny nerd physique' to 'actually has abs and muscles that a jock would be proud of' in a week.

Also the Protectorate got sued like three times over copyrighted music.

It was still totally worth it by the end, though. Also that one time the ABB went on a bombing spree proved why you absolutely never want to fight Montage and Grue when they're on the same team.

 _ **Fear of the Dark**_ indeed.

* * *

(Incidentally, the Simurgh really, _**really**_ likes Taylor. They did a Phantom of the Opera duet, and Taylor got chewed out for telling her "SING, MY ANGEL! SING FOR ME!", even if it resulted in the least damage of Endbringer attack history, since the Simurgh was way too busy singing that duet to do much of anything else, including mindfuckery)


	27. Death is an Inconvenience

**Death is an Inconvenience**

* * *

Summary: Because it doesn't need to make sense, it just needs to be consistent. Or: Taylor is a Saiyan, somehow, and stupidity is the name of the game.

* * *

Brian Laborn, also known as Grue, was a tall, imposing young man. He was well muscled and had the build of a fighter.

He was also getting knocked around like a little bitch by a slip of a girl who was barely half his size. Tall, sure, but she shared more with noodles than she did with him, in terms of musculature.

"Fucking brutes, man," he would later be quoted as saying, as he was hauled into a holding cell.

He'd be broken out not two days later, but that was a story for another time.

* * *

"Oh hell no," Brian said, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the new addition to the Undersiders.

"Oh, hey, it's Grue!" his nemesis said.

Shadow Stalker might have nearly killed him, but no one had humiliated him like Saiyan had. He was certainly angrier at her than he'd ever been at Shadow Stalker.

At least every time he had fought Shadow Stalker in melee, he had utterly and completely dominated her, demonstrating his clear superiority in terms of physique and technique.

Saiyan, meanwhile, had outmuscled AND outplayed him at every turn. It was almost as if she was learning his moves while they fought, which was the sort of shit you usually saw in cartoons and videogames. He knew, he'd played enough games with Alec to know the fucker could learn how to play a videogame just from watching someone else play. No more SNK for Brian.

The fact that she grinned when she saw him wasn't good. "Spar?" she asked.

Goddamn, saying no was almost like kicking a puppy. An eager, overly violent and somehow still adorable puppy.

"Okay fine," he finally said.

He got beat up a lot.

* * *

"Don't worry," Lisa said, "Coil already agreed to pay for her food. Actually that's kind of the reason why she even joined the team. Also did I tell you we work for Coil? We work for Coil. The food is lovely. Isn't it Taylor?"

Brian frowned, filing that revelation for later. "Really? You joined over food? Are you starving or something?"

"Always," Taylor said.

Three hours later, she had eaten enough food for the Undersiders and most of Rachel's dogs, before finally putting her last plate down and letting out a satisfied sigh. Her belly was almost bulging, though Brian could almost perceive it deflating - she was processing the food that fucking fast.

"Jesus fucking christ," Lisa said. "I'm getting a rundown on your biology - you're not even close to human, _you're a goddamn alien_ "

"Yup!" Taylor said, popping the p. "I'm an alien from this great big red planet called Vegeta! Like King Vegeta! Or Prince Vegeta! I was sent here when I was a little baby, or a toddler can't remember really, in order to purge this planet of all life and then sell it to the highest bidder because we're an entire race of spacefaring planetjackers! But it's okay 'cause mom and dad found me while hiking on some mountain or something but because dad had butterfingers and mom was kind of distracted they accidentally dropped me and I fell down a ravine andIhitmyheadrealhardsoIforgotallmyprogrammingImeanthat'swhatdadsays-"

"BREATHE, WOMAN!" Alec shouted.

Taylor did so. "Ah, uhm, sorry. My friend Emma tells me I become a real chatterbox when I'm excited. Or scared. Or bored. Actually she just says I'm a chatterbox in general since I cannot shut up when-"

Brian cleared his throat.

Blushing brightly, Taylor shut up.

* * *

"This is the dumbest thing we've ever done," Alec said.

Rachel glared at him.

"You weren't complaining when we came up with the idea," Brian said.

"Of course. I'm loving every second of it. I'm just saying, it's the dumbest thing we've ever done," he said.

Then all three of them leaped into the air.

Taylor had agreed to teach them how to use Ki. Downside was, she was somehow convinced that they were a troupe of superheroes. Capes and stuff included. So they had to look the part.

Rachel apparently did not want any of it... up until Taylor made an offhand comment that she would be able to learn how to transfer her ki to somebody else. As it turned out, Rachel's powers made her very good at transfering her Ki to her dogs.

 _And they could learn how to fucking talk_ using it.

Brian still had trouble processing just how bullshit his _fucking alien_ teammate was.

They were flying through the air. Again, their Alien teammate was bullshit.

Having planned their ballistic arc, they easily landed where they intended when they came back down. Interrupting a robbery of a jewelry store.

Now why Rune was robbing a jewelry store was beyond Grue, but he was way beyond caring, as well. He struck the silly pose he had practiced. "HALT, EVILDOER!"

Alec snickered.

And now he was thankful that sparring was the easiest and quickest way to train their usage of Ki. He was gonna punch Alec later. That made everything a bit more bearable.

* * *

Bakuda's superbomb was... well... a super bomb.

It was the size of a house, and apparently packed enough of a punch to level the entire city.

And when the Protectorate tried to disarm it, its timer went from 20 hours to 20 minutes. Then it went to 2.

Needless to say, shit went way, way wrong way fast. Clockblocker could only delay the inevitable.

Brian would not have trouble admitting that he cried when the weird ass alien he had for a teammate walked up to it, enveloped it in a barrier of her ki, and let it go off, with her still inside the shield, as that was the only way she could contain the blast.

* * *

And because the world was not done shitting on Brockton Bay, fucking Leviathan came a knocking.

"Well this is wonderful," Grue said, as he lay on a makeshift bed. Panacea couldn't get to him, she was busy with heroes that would be significantly less useful than him in a fight against the Endbringer. Oh, not that his power was all that good for Endbringer fights, but the Ki stuff he'd learned? Being a Blaster was awesome.

Either way, the city was fucked. Leviathan had shrugged off the Undersiders' combined Ki Attack like it was nothing.

Everything was lost... until it wasn't.

There! He knew that Ki! It filled him with hope. It filled him with nostalgia.

 _"Taylor!"_ he shouted.

* * *

"Aren't you dead?" Alec asked, as he and Lisa, the only two Undersiders still standing, approached Taylor, who floated not very far from Leviathan.

"I am," Taylor said, smiling at them. "Turns out that since I died in an heroic sacrifice and I was a fighter in life, the Guardian of our planet took pity on me and let me keep my body, and made a case to send me for training to this guy named King of the World or something, anyway, so I go to the afterlife, pass the checkpoint - oh by the way the afterlife is real and it's all bureaucracy - and go through this million kilometers long bridge - yes that's literal and yes they use metric in the afterlife - to this super martial arts master's planet - yes - to get training except he's not there and the planet's not there because apparently some guy named Cell blew it up and so I had to lodge a complaint, but before I had to run back all the way to the office and then this guy with pointy hair drops in and turns out he's like my second cousin or something like that and he's a Saiyan like me and he takes me with him to this special afterlife for warrior heroes there was this Olibu guy there he was like super hot anyway so I went to the afterlife for warriors and then I trained with this guy for like six years and I learned so much-"

Alec raised a hand. "Stop. Breathe."

"Taylor, remember the three Cs," Lisa said. "Calm, clear, concise," she said.

Taylor took a deep breath. "Well to make a long story short I went to the afterlife, met this guy from my race, trained with him and learned all sorts of cool stuff. I can transform now!"

"Cool," Alec said. "Now tell me in three words or less: Is that remotely relevant regarding that thing over there?" he said, pointing to where Leviathan was fighting Eidolon.

"Yes it is!" Taylor said.

"Explain, remember Cs," Lisa said.

"Well uh, I'm not sure, unless it's tougher than like, the solar system, I'm fairly sure? Yeah, fairly sure I can kill it in one shot!"

"What? What the fuck?" Alec asked. "Did you just imply you can destroy- "

"The entire solar system? Sure, yeah. This is a small one," Taylor chirped. "Honestly if I'd ever known how to handle my ki properly, if I'd had anyone to teach me other than my pod's pre-recorded files, I would've probably been able to destroy entire cities by the time we met."

"Jesus fucking christ," Lisa said, "You're a living, humanoid hunk of bullshit, you know that?"

Taylor smiled. "Anyway, so," she said. "First, let me show you this fun thing I learned. It's called SUPER SAIYAN!" she shouted, as an aura of golden flames wreathed around her. "It increases my power by a lot!"

"Fiftyfold," Lisa helpfully informed. "Jesus fucking Christ, is this your true power!?" she asked. "Why did I ask that."

"Well it isn't," Taylor said. She then tensed a bit and an explosion of golden wind and bluish lightning kind of shook the clouds and rattled the windows of the bay. "This is a Super Saiyan that has gone beyond a normal Super Saiyan, an Ascended Super Saiyan. I just call it Super Saiyan Two," Taylor explained.

"You just... doubled your power. On top of the previous increase. A hundredfold in total. Please tell me you don't have some other bullshit powerup- of course you fucking do," Lisa said.

Alec chuckled. "Of course she fucking does."

"And this," Taylor said, bending over, "is to go EVEN FURTHER BEYOND!"

* * *

"Never. EVER. Powerup into that form again. _You caused natural disasters all over the world just by powering up, you- you-"_

Brian coughed.

"Well you know," he finished.

"Now, normally," Alexandria said, as she, Eidolon and Legend dropped in, "I would be attempting to bring you people in because of things."

"It has been decided, however, that we really, REALLY don't want to piss off the girl who just casually beat Leviathan like an used rug before obliterating him with a blast that, according to Dragon, contains more energy than she believes the explosion of this entire planet would release."

"Well it turned out that the Endbringer was a lot tougher than we all thought," Lisa said. "Its core had just about as much mass as the continental mass of North America. So... yeah, that was probably warranted."

"In other words," Eidolon said, "we really, REALLY don't want to die. Or provoke the World Destroying Alien into destroying the world. On the other hand... can you go pick a fight with Sciion, perhaps?"

Taylor stroked her chin. "Actually that sounds kinda fun."

* * *

"All of those plans... all the sacrifices... every bit of fucked up shit we've ever done..." Doctor Mother said.

Contessa just wept into a corner.

Meanwhile, on a nearby screen, they played the footage of Taylor Hebert and Zion's fight.

It was really strange to think that the Warrior had been convinced to put itself in mortal danger by focusing his 'true' self into a form that could fight toe to toe with the Parahuman known as 'Saiyan', that insisted she was an alien as well. Apparently all they had to do was suggest that putting itself in danger might be fun and exciting.

As it turns out, their fight concluded when Zion literally ran out of energy from a combination of constantly using its available powers. According to Taylor, it was the most fun fight of its life and it died happy.

"IT WAS ALL POINTLESS BECAUSE ALL WE HAD TO DO WAS JUST TALK TO THE FUCKING THING!"

The leader of Cauldron finally collapsed into a heap, before sobbing into her mug of coffee.

"How were we supposed to know it was _that_ stupid!?"

* * *

Literally the only reason this exists is because I wanted to write a sort of DragonBall crossover, but the only real idea I had for the premise is 'Saiyan Taylor dies and meets up with Goku in the Afterlife, then gets back to BB for the Leviathan fight because of timey wimey ball shenanigans or dragonball shenanigans or Trunks shenanigans or Whis shenanigans' so I decided, might as well make it crack.

Also yes, Bitch has flying dogs now. She is trying to teach them how to do the fusion dance. It works.

(by the by, while this is from the perspective of the Undersiders, I'd like to note that since Taylor is effectively completely immune to mental trauma due to being a Saiyan (notice how the terrible shit that happens to Goku, Gohan, Goten and Trunks never really affects them in the long run, and even Vegeta kind of shrugged off what must've been years of abuse from Freeza in the end), she and Emma were still friends when Taylor first died, Sophia thinks Taylor is the coolest person ever (a predator so fucking strong that she does not give one iota of a fuck about literally anything Sophia has ever tried to rattle her and brazenly walks about as an open cape with only the promise of retaliation preventing villains from targetting her family), Taylor is still the chatterbox she was before her mom's death because she shrugged off the trauma from that, Danny is in a much better headspace because Taylor is and simply dragged him along... Also the city was on the path to recovery from the actions of stupid people regarding the boat graveyard before Leviathan because the Undersiders were cooperating with the Dockworkers to clear the place out with their OP Ki blasts and super strength)

Incidentally, I've been reading Y'all Are Stupid lately. It is good. Go read it. It contains maximum dorkery and extreme stupidity in a good way. It's in Spacebattles. My current running theory is that the Bitch situation was a jarring tonal shift, but you know what wouldn't be? The Protectorate pretending 'Hellhound' died so they can rebrand her and recruit her into the Wards. So, yeah, I'm calling that!


	28. Quest for the Grail II

**Quest for the Grail II**

* * *

Summary: Stranded in a world not her own, Fujmaru Ritsuka must resolve the anomaly that is creating a singularity in space and time.

* * *

"I see," Ritsuka said, laying her teacup down. "So he is no true Dragon, merely an imitation in shape. Of course, if that is the case, then calling upon Georgios was very lucky," she said.

"Why? Does he have some sort of cheat device that makes his enemies into dragons for him to fight?" asked the uncommonly pretty boy of the lot. His name was Alec, and he had actually been courteous enough to introduce himself. After backing down from the fight when the dark skinned Servant Ritsuka had summoned easily handled their beasts.

Beowulf was always up for a fight with a beast, though Ritsuka had learned never to summon him and Arthur at the same time. It would just get silly.

The others had introduced themselves promptly.

"Of course," Ritsuka said, smiling.

Her eyes swept the L couch. The tall, dark skinned and well muscled boy, his name was Brian. Apparently his name was not a reference to that old text based game she had played with Dr. Roman. Good. Those things scared her more than Goetia ever could. So much lost progress because she'd forgotten to carry a match or a torch in her inventory.

The slightly smaller, but still rather noticeably bulky female that was tending to her dogs, scared and terrified from Beowulf's display, was named Rachel. Ritsuka liked Rachel, she was quiet and didn't really do much of anything after Beowulf had cowed her. She would recommend a shower, however, she did smell like wet dog.

Finally was the blonde in spandex, Lisa. The 'brain' of the group. Ritsuka had already determined she suffered from a terminal case of foot in mouth syndrome. That alone had tempted Ritsuka to summon Gawain, simply to watch the two of them try to dig their feet out of their mouths and just make it worse and worse until the awkwardness reached champion levels.

"Fuck. I just realized. That's Saint George, isn't it?" Lisa asked, turning to the raging fight, where the increasingly bigger and angrier Lung was getting cut to ribbons by the Guardian Knight, who was making a notable effort to keep the fight away form his master and her party. "And the madman before... that was the real Beowulf, too."

"Correct on both counts," Ritsuka said, nodding.

"But... how, none of that makes any sense!" Lisa continued, "they're dead, their mythical feats are proven mostly false, and I'm not entirely sure Beowulf even existed at all, even though I just met him!"

"Perhaps in this world they are mere myth and legend," Ritsuka said. "In mine, they are not. If it'll make it easier, it's just magic, we don't have to explain it."

"The only reason you won't explain it is that you can't, you can't do magic on your own, can you?"

Ritsuka blushed. "I'm a terrible Magus, yes, and I can pretty much just use my Mystic Codes and that's that. But hey," she said, turning to the fight, "I think we're done here."

Saint George stood triumphant over the broken, battered and cut up body of Lung.

"Is... is he dead?" Brian asked. The fight had been gory, but not exactly what you would call spectacular. Most of it was simply Saint George cutting apart Lung, while Lung tried to set things on fire only to be weakened immensely by George while at the same time blocked from escaping or damaging the environment.

For Brian, it was pretty interesting to watch, as he saw a man move with far greater skill than he had ever seen, and he said as much, but for the others, it was actually not all that interesting, which they also expressed.

Lisa whistled. "He was for the past ten minutes. His regeneration is honestly insane when he gets this fired up..."

* * *

"Well, nothing really weird has happened. At least not outside the norm," Lisa said. "I don't think I can help-"

Her cellphone rang.

"Just a minute," Lisa said, fishing into her purse (gotta live up to the image of a normal teen when in the boardwalk!) and pulling out her phone, answering the call and bringing it to her ear. "I've got company right now, give me - what? Really? Oh man, that's hilar- okay so that's not funny at all actually. Kinda messed- seriously? Shit. Shit shit shit. Yeah, about that, boss - I think we might have an in on what's going on right now. She's next to me right now, and claims to come from an alternate world, seems to be seeking some sort of artifact of great power that basically creates weird situations. Exactly."

Ritsuka blinked. That was one fast conversation, she didn't even know if there was time for the other person to answer.

"Cool. Yeah, I'll bring her over - I think it's better if we talk in person."

Beside her, Brian seemed suspicious. "It's strange. The boss doesn't usually meet with people in person. He's a very cautious man."

Ritsuka nodded. "Well if what's happening is what I think is happening, then I might have found the Grail, and the situation could not be any more serious."

* * *

"Extremely serious, indeed," the man behind the snake themed costume said. "This... Holy Grail, that you mentioned, could it be responsible for the changes in the Merchants?"

He laid a series of folders on the desk in front of himself. Ritsuka reached into the one labelled 'Skidmark' with a smaller 'leader' underneath it and opened it. "This is a very disgusting individual," she said, idly.

"Yes," Coil said. "But that is his normal state."

Ritsuka turned the page. The man had clearly gained at least an inch or two, his muscles were rippling, veins, glowing red, were visible all across his exposed upper body, his eyes were almost glittering gold and of course, he was wreathed in dark energy. Reports said that any and all attacks headed in his direction were simply repelled, and that while it was part of his powerset, the red and black fields he was generating were significantly stronger than what he had ever used before.

"This does indeed look like the influence of a Grail."

The fact that he had apparently shrugged off mundane gunfire, something he was not capable of before, was the clincher - he had become a Phantasmal entity, on a similar level to a Servant. Mundane weaponry would not be able to harm him any more.

"The other two on file, as well as a third that we have not yet compiled a file upon, display similar traits," he said, gesturing to the files reading 'Squealer' and 'Mush'.

"It's almost certain that removing the grail will end this situation. However, I do not know which of them possesses it, or if they came into contact with it, its corrupted essence or even the mud that spews from the taint of the Demon God Pillars," Ritsuka explained.

"In the meantime, while we look for the grail, how do we fight them?" Coil asked. "Bullets, knives - even explosives - have all failed."

"Mundane weaponry will have no effect. They are conceptually speaking elevated existences," Ritsuka explained, "It's kind of hard to explain, but the gist of it is that you're gonna need to fight them with magic. I'm not entirely sure, but your parahuman powers are probably magic of some sort-"

"Magic..?" Coil asked, his eyes narrowing.

Ritsuka smiled a strained smile. "If it pleases you to think of it as such, consider that any sufficiently advanced science is indistinguishable from magic. It is merely a name, ultimately unimportant."

"True," Coil said. "Nevertheless, as my plans have been upset by the interference of this... 'Grail', I shall enlist your help in ridding my city of their presence."

Ritsuka smiled. "Tell me, Mr. Coil," she began, "how would you think you compare to James Moriarty?"

"I believe I can hold my own, Ms. Fujimaru," Coil said.

Behind Ritsuka, a flash of light heralded the appearance of a dandy man, dressed in an immaculate white shirt with a maroon waistcoat and well fit pants, holding a tray with a tea service set in it. He lay it on the desk.

"From where I am standing, Mr. Coil, your plots are as plain as day," she said. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Mr. Substitute?"

"Impressive," a much deeper baritone said, from the intercom system. "I am the true Coil."

The dandy man smiled. "Ah, to watch my girl see through the plots of other villains, it warms an uncle's heart. Now, however, I believe it's time for the adults to discuss, because I would not trust a viper not to bite the hand that feeds it."

"Fair enough," Coil said.

And so negotiations began in earnest.

* * *

So I've been saving up for a while.

Current tally?

1600 Quartz In.

Eresh zero.

If any of you wants to contribute, raise your hands to the sky and share your energy with me!

...

Or send me money. Whichever works really. I have no Quartz, and I must roll.


	29. Read the Fucking Manual

**Read the Fucking Manual**

* * *

Summary: When your power makes your life into a videogame, it'd be idiotic not to read the manual. Inspired by, of all things, the tendency of so called 'gamer' fics to 'bank' their points or perks or what have you.

* * *

Taylor frowned.

"Help?" she tried.

"Help System activated! What seems to be your bogle, young lady?"

Taylor sighed. "Christ, the game's Canadian," she muttered, then cleared her throat. "I have several questions."

"Ask away, young lady, the Help System shall answer all that it can!"

"Okay, I have a bunch of questions. First, I assume that I'll unlock more perks as I level up. Is this correct?" Taylor asked.

"That is correct," the system said.

"Is there a level cap?" Taylor asked.

"There is no level cap," the system said.

"What does Strength do..."

And so on and so forth.

Fortunately, the stats screen happened to be a pause menu, so despite the fact that Taylor had spent sixteen hours just pouring over every single little detail of the game, as far as she could get the Help System to answer, had not caused her to feel hungry, tired or even bored. Soon enough, she was as informed as she would ever be.

Ready to face the world, she ended the pause and looked around her, the kitchen was just as she remembered it being, and her pasta was still a minute away from finishing.

She smiled.

It was time for some level grinding.

* * *

It hadn't taken long for Taylor to develop a strategy.

Her stats all affected her in various ways. The 'Physical' stats were quite obvious, but she had still gotten clarification and even inquired on the aesthetics of her body based on stat distribution. It seemed like so long as she was relatively well balanced between Strength, Endurance and Agility, she'd have a balanced body type, while going too heavily in any one direction would transform her body.

Good to know.

Her mental stats were a bit more complicated. Her perception didn't change how good her eyesight was, for instance - she still needed her glasses to see no matter how much she improved it. Instead, she saw and noticed more things that she wouldn't before, and was better able to make educated guesses as to what something was based on the blurry images that her eyes captured.

Luck apparently affected everything that was not a predetermined outcome, or which had no random factors. Considering everything had a factor of randomness in some way, it was a very potent stat, as it affected everything, skewing probability in her favor.

Charisma was also pretty straightforward, she would just be more convincing and would be able to stumble into the right words to say at the right time more frequently. Good pair with luck, that one.

However, the most important stat, in her opinion?

Intelligence.

Not just because of the name, but simply because Intelligence increased the experience points she earned with any action.

More importantly, every stat had related perks, and Intelligence had perks mostly geared towards further improving the rate at which she levelled up.

You would think, well, if you're only increasing how fast you level up, how are you going to actually do anything with all those levels?

Well, that's where perks that increase the number of skill and stat points that she received came in. And guess what those were related to in the perk tree.

Fortunately, simple and dumb actions would give her experience, small and meager amounts though it might be. It's not as if she needed to fight right now. For the time being, she stuck to cooking, reading books, completing puzzles, 'winning' arguments online (apparently swaying public opinion in her favor counted as a victory, and managing to sway the other person's opinion was a major victory granting enhanced experience) and doing well at school. The latter was giving her progressively more experience as the Bitch Three were putting more and more roadblocks.

In truth, Taylor had even started to like the three bitches. They were the major source of experience she was getting, simply because of how many obstacles they gave her to overcome. From something as simple as fending off Emma's verbal attacks or even weathering the storm, as it were, to dodging Madison's childish pranks to escaping Sophia's violence.

Everything gave her experience.

And as she got more and more experience, her level increased, and with it her intelligence and basic skills, which she then used to obtain experience quicker and more efficiently.

Taylor spent three months doing nothing but grinding her levels and intelligence.

Skills had no set cap, but they did have diminishing returns on points past a certain point. From one to one hundred, the difference would be night and day, but from four hundred to one thousand, the difference would be smaller than that. One of the advantages of high intelligence was the Instant Math perk, Taylor thought to herself. She was getting a surprisingly large amount of mileage out of that one, especially considering she could mathematically calculate trajectories and velocities so that she could more easily evade Sophia.

Three months after she had started, she had determined her points flow to be sufficient to begin improving everything else about herself.

Needless to say, it did not take long for Taylor to quickly find the physical peak of normal human beings and exceed it, to the point that she was fairly certain these days she could throw down with most Brutes without breaking a sweat. Maybe she couldn't arm wrestle Glory Girl... but that was just a matter of time.

The bit that was really legitimately hilarious was that because her level was so high, as she had crossed into the three digits, her HP was insane. Which led to the rather amusing tale of how she had helped Armsmaster capture the Parahuman known as Lung, by simply standing there and letting the Dragon of Kyushu tire himself out against an opponent who could simply tank everything he could throw at her.

Admittedly, she could've done without her clothes being burned off, but hey, at least she had a body she wasn't ashamed off.

That was just the start of an illustrious career, a career which had the high point of her convincing Zion to kill himself.

Charisma, its related skills and its related perks were all fun, Taylor mused. Who'd have thought that she'd save Earth, all Earths really, by telling a creature beyond her comprehension to just go die?

* * *

The idea of 'banking' skill and stat points shows up in pretty much every 'Gamer' fic ever.

Don't. Use the points early to make the grind faster and easier. Speed up your farming so you can speed up your farming so that you're getting more points than you know what to do with.


	30. Knight Princess Errant

**Knight Princess Errant**

* * *

Summary: Brockton Bay is a giant hub of crime, villainy and scum of many different sorts. Between the German-inspired barbarians and the rampaging dragon, a certain Knight Princess feels right at home.

* * *

Emma Barnes blushed bright red, apparently trying to turn her face the same shade as her hair.

She looked upon the smiling face of the handsome man offering her his hand and blushed even more. He went straight past handsome and into the 'gorgeous' category. He had silky-looking blond hair, just about short enough not to need styling, but also giving him a bit of a rugged look that only highlighted the aristocratic bent that the features of his face had, with his high cheekbones and perfectly smooth, fair skin.

His blue eyes were almost like gemstones, and his smile was heavenly.

"Are you quite alright, miss?"

And oh, his Accent, sounding British enough to tickle her fancy, but not thick enough that she had trouble understanding him... it was perfect, he was perfect in every way.

"I- ah- ehm- uhhhh-" Emma babbled something she couldn't quite understand, unable to coherently form words. She had to swallow her nerves for a moment, as well as the extreme need to ask him if he would date her, "I'm okay, ah-"

Her blush nearly reached atomic levels when she placed her hand in his and he helpfully, almost delicately, pulled her to her feet, holding her hand until she was no longer wobbly.

"My deepest apologies, I should have looked where I was going," he said, bowing slightly.

She knew, however, that it was her fault. She was the one who was rushing, who turned a corner without looking. The mall was quite a crowded place at the best of times, so it was only natural that he be walking slowly.

"No, no, I, uhm, I-" she couldn't quite form the words.

"Ah, there you are, Sir Gawain!" a new voice interrupted them, and Emma turned.

She was an angel.

There really was no other way to describe it. While Emma could conceivably describe the man before her as the very devil himself, come from heaven to tempt her into sin, the girl before her could be nothing other than a vision of divine, angelic beauty.

Everything about her was beautiful. The designer in Emma's mind drooled at the sight of her dress and how impossibly well it fit her, enhancing her image of an innocent young girl while at the same time bringing attention to her slender frame as well as highlighting her legs with the opaque stockings and the flawlessness of her fair skin by setting it aside the white material.

For a moment, Emma entertained the idea of getting a dress like hers, but she realized instantly that she would never look even a millionth as good as the girl before did wearing it, and it was pointless to.

"Oh- were you busy?" she asked. "I wouldn't want to interrupt you."

"Please do not worry, my liege, for I was merely apologizing for my rude behavior," he said.

Liege? Emma wasn't quite certain what that meant, she'd have to look it up. Maybe it was her name? But 'Mai Lish'... could be Asian. The girl looked 100% European. Hell, both of them were the Aryan wet dream, now that she thought about it.

"I would not want to be rude, but we are in quite a bit of a hurry," the young girl said, before turning to Emma. "Please forgive us, but we must make haste."

"Fare thee well, fair maiden," the blond man said.

"Uhm... ah... goodbye!" Emma stammered, almost punching herself for failing so completely and utterly in a social situation.

Those were supposed to be her thing, after all.

"Have a good day," the girl said, giving her a formal curtsey before turning around and leaving at a fast clip, the man, with his longer legs, easily keeping pace at a more relaxed speed.

* * *

"That's the man I saw at the mall," Emma said, frowning.

"Did you catch his name? If I come up with anything on these guys maybe I'll finally get some slack," Sophia said, stretching like a cat as she continued to work off the kinks of the stakeout she had just been put through. Her body was protesting the lack of movement for a very long time, but now all it wanted was to relax in the most sprawled out position possible.

"No, we got interrupted-"

"Oooh, working your charms I see," Sophia said with a salacious grin. "I'm not gonna lie, for a nazi he looks damn good," she said. "And a Parahuman too, you lucky minx."

Emma shook her head. "I wish," she said, almost defeated, "he got called away by who I think was his girlfriend or something? I mean, the girl looked like she was 14 but you never know. I thought I got her name but turns out he was just using a title," she said. "Something about royalty, I wasn't really paying attention."

"Might be the theme their little team has got going on. Well, we know his cape name, at least, he goes by Gawain."

Then Emma clicked. "Wait, I think I heard her call him that," she said. "I don't think it's a cape name. They were using it in public, unmasked."

Considering that the only change in outfit that Emma could recall from the news to the time she'd seen them at the mall was the addition of Armor that didn't cover their faces very well, if at all...

"Huh. Well, makes it easier," Sophia said, shrugging. "It's a pretty strong bunch, but they seem to be following that little girl."

There was a hint of bitterness in Sophia's tone. "Did you fight her or something?"

Sophia was usually like that when she spoke of the people who fought, and defeated, her, much like Grue or most of the E88 heavier hitters. "Nah. She just... kinda pisses me off. It's like, I dunno, she just exists and it rubs me the wrong way."

Emma frowned. "To be honest, when I met her at the mall she seemed nice enough."

"We think she might be projecting a sort of Master Aura like Barbie's," Sophia said. "It makes everyone around her just like her."

Nodding, Emma figured that might just be it. Even so... "I think it might have a lasting effect, because when I think of her, she still looks super cute to me."

Sophia snorted. "Well she is," she admitted, "kind of like a lion cub."

"Oh, and that dress - I wish I could make it look half that good!"

"Of course you would look at her clothes first," Sophia said, rolling her eyes.

* * *

The second time Emma accidentally ran into a member of Round Table, the name the group had taken for itself, had been at the Boardwalk.

This time, however, the circumstances were a bit worse, as she was held up in an alley just off of the Boardwalk by a pair of enforcers, along with a snarling Sophia. The Enforcers were clearly looking to shoo them off of the place, because of a prior incident that involved them putting a certain someone where she belonged that got a bit out of hand.

Were she to be entirely honest, Emma would never once have considered the idea of purple hair on a man to be even remotely attractive.

But here she was. In a way, it just kind of suit the overall gloomy atmosphere that Lancelot of the Round Table projected around himself. He wasn't like the radiant sun Gawain, who lit up rooms by his mere presence, a man with such charisma that he was often beyond reproach. Instead, he had this quiet presence to him, like he was much like the sea, calm but hiding a violent, raging storm within.

Or, in more common terms, he had the bad boy charm about him instead of the perfect boy next door charm. Far be it from Emma to be anythign but a teenage girl in how she described her crushes.

After a couple of weeks with the Round Table settling into town, the public at large had become aware that their perfect Knights image was not, well, perfect. After all, Tristan and Lancelot were well known to be quite flirty, and especially towards married women. The latter confirmed when they hit on Battery in full view of her now confirmed Husband, Assault. That'd put quite a few rumors to rest as well.

Similarly, it had become clear that Gawain liked rather top heavy women. This because the man was honest to a fault, and Emma did mean fault. Brutally and tactlessly honest. Enough so to tell Faultline, to her face, that the reason he was not attracted to her was that she was lacking in the chest area.

However, all quirks aside, she was quite happy to see the well known 'Knight of NTR', as he had been dubbed in PHO, swoop in to the rescue, placing a hand on the shoulder of each of the enforcers barring their passage before Sophia did something she would regret.

"Gentlemen, what seems to be the matter here?" he asked. "I believe that you are cornering these young women here against their will. Would you care to explain what, exactly, is going on?"

The enforcers tried to act like the tough guys they believed they were.

It only took a little squeezing for them to drop the act and reveal themselves to be the thugs they were. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" one of them cried.

"These two bi-"

Lancelot squeezed a bit. "Please, have a little respect, there are young ladies present," he said, his face showing his anger at the attempted curse."

Letting out a whimper, the man continued, "these two, we caught them pushing a girl off the pier last week," he said, "we were going to warn them not to do that, I swear! nothing more! please stop!"

Letting them go, Lancelot turned towards them with a rather stormy expression, clearly ignoring the fleeing Enforcers. "I've heard of that incident," he said. "So you two were the ones, huh," he said, eyes narrowed. Taking a deep breath, however, he seemed to calm. "That girl had to go to the hospital, and even now is confined to a wheelchair because of her broken leg. It is not my role to hand down punishment to the wicked and the lawbreakers, nor do I know the processes behind the scenes which must surely be undergoing," he said. "But much as I am loathe to visit violence upon a young maiden, neither will I tolerate the abuse of power upon the weak."

Sophia seemed deeply offended. Emma wondered why, for a moment, until she realized why. He was basically challenging her life's philosophy. 'Abuse' of power did not exist, in Sophia's mind. The strong took from the weak, and used them for entertainment, and put them in their place.

"It was an accident," Emma said, hurriedly.

"To lie so brazenly," Lancelot said, shaking his head. "Do not test my patience, begone from my sight. Go about your day," he said, turning around and leaving.

"Fuck you," Sophia shouted at him. "You think you can come here and talk to me like that? Who the fuck do you think you are!?"

"I am Lancelot du Lac, Knight of the Lake," he said.

"You don't know shit," Sophia said. "The strong prey on the weak. That's the rule of the world!"

"That's the rule of beasts," Lancelot said. "As for man..."

He shook his head.

"Your philosophy is misguided and rotten."

"Fuck you! We survived, we took our pain and overcame it! It's our privilege to devour the weak! That's the way the world works!"

"Lancelot," a familiar voice said. Emma turned to face them, momentarily tearing her gaze away from the confrontation. Gawain and the 'Princess' were coming into the alley. "That is quite enough."

"Fuck you, too," Sophia snarled at the Princess. "You think you're better than me, don't you?"

The Princess frowned, seemingly in displeasure.

"Well you're not! You're just a prissy little bitch, who relies on the powers of her subordinates! You're nothing compared to me! I can stand on my own, while you're-"

"Silence, cur," Gawain interrupted. "I see not a wolf standing proud, but a babbling little girl, mouthing off at those whose notice she is beneath. I will not stand idly by and allow you to insult-"

"Gawain, please stop," the princess said. "Mean as she is, that is not an excuse to hurt her further. As you said, she is already hurting, and simply lashing out," she said. "It would be remiss of us as Knights to pick on those weaker than ourselves, would it not?"

That, alone, was probably the worst blow that they could have dealt Sophia.

Sparing her simply because she was beneath their notice.

"You- You- BITCH!" Sophia screamed, and for a moment, Emma felt the need to dash, to tackle her friend to the ground and prevent her from attacking.

She never got the chance. When Sophia moved, the Knights moved infinitely faster. Gawain stood protectively, ready to fight, in front of the Princess.

Lancelot, meanwhile, had stopped Sophia and put her into a simple arm hold. 'Simple', of course, being about as good as being held in steel vice grips, given the brute package that all the knights seemed to share.

"Why!? Why do you two obey this little girl? She's an idealistic, naive fool!" Sophia shouted, "don't you get it?"

"If those words are the ones which you use to describe me, then so be it. I relish being an idealistic and naive fool," the Princess said, "if it means I can hold my head up high and trust in my convictions, if I can look back upon the path I have walked and see not regrets, but fond memories and joyful moments in time, then I will wear that label proudly and happily," she said, offering Sophia a beatific, nay, downright angelic smile. "And I know that you too can follow in this path. I know that deep within you there is a being that yearns to be a hero, that wishes to see to it that none suffers like she did."

"Fuck you!" Sophia growled. "You don't know me! You don't know anything about me! You're nothing! I'm a Predator, I know how the world works! You're just a dumb little girl!"

"Perhaps," the Princess said, giving the both of them one last glance. "But I shall leave you with some parting words. A man wiser than I once told me that it is the duty of the strong to defend the weak, and I find myself wholeheartedly agreeing. And I believe that, deep inside, you agree as well. When you let go of your pain, of your anger and suffering, and when you are ready to make amends, only then, will you truly be happy and free. Lancelot, please let her go."

He did.

Sophia did not move.

"Good day. Perhaps when we meet again, it shall be in friendlier terms."

There was a momentary pause, before she turned to Emma.

"She will forgive you," she said, simply. "You know where to find her."

"H-How..." Emma took a step back.

The princess merely shook her head.

And so they left.

Emma sat on the ground, letting out a long sigh, releasing that lungful of air that she hadn't known she was holding.

She pointedly ignored Sophia sobbing on the ground, nursing her shattered pride.

Instead, she pulled her knees up to her chin. "They... She... she can't be right. I'm strong. I'm strong... I'm a survivor... we're right, aren't we?" she asked, looking at where Sophia was rubbing the marks on her arms and back. "We're in the right, right?" she asked.

Sophia growled, but offered no answer.

"They're... they're just-"

Emma swallowed air.

"We're right," she muttered.

Every time she said it, it sounded just that little bit less confident in her own answer.

* * *

"Teenagers," Lancelot muttered, shaking his head. "Everything is made so much more complicated than it truly is."

"Careful, Lancelot, lest your remarks reflect upon your own behavior," Gawain sniped back.

Lancelot glared at him.

"Children," the Princess muttered, shaking her head. "Even so... I hope that I have done a good thing," she said. "Ah, Merlin, how I wish you were here to advise me. I truly wish for Master's happiness, but I wish you would tell me if what I did was the right thing... if only you weren't chasing women instead, perhaps you could answ-"

"It was," a voice said.

The Princess let out a very undignified yelp and in her fright, she lost her balance and fell on the ground. Fortunately, Gawain was quick on the uptake and caught her before she could hit hard enough to leave a mark. "Careful there," he said, a friendly smile on his face.

"Merlin!" the princess shouted, "you- you-"

"Well, my amazing timing aside, don't you worry your pretty little head, Artoria, you did good by your master," he said, nodding his head. "Your Master is a good girl, in the end. She wishes to have her friend back, more than she wishes to revenge the wrongs brought upon her."

Artoria nodded. "Thank you for that," she said. "You always know how to calm my fears, Merlin."

"I missed how cute you used to be. Older you was always serious and all business," Merlin mused.

Blushing, Artoria seemed to withdraw into herself. "Ah... I'm sorry, I just... I just can't picture my older self."

* * *

So, important:

I already wrote Taylor-as-Saber-Lily. So instead let's do Saber Lily in Brockton Bay. Her master is Obvious because the QA is trying to get to the Throne of Heroes for possible perfecting of the Endbringer-system for maximum conflict generation.

As for the rest of the Round Table... Merlin is still alive (locked in Avalon tho, what he sends out is a projection) and is the one who summoned them. He's actually doing a lot of work behind the scenes to dismantle the ABB's prostitution ring and basically trying to set up his own whorehouse to show them how it's done (even though he's cribbing from Gilgamesh's).


	31. In Our Dreams

**In Our Dreams**

* * *

Summary: I don't do this for pleasure, I just do it because I can.

* * *

She flew, cape flapping in the wind.

Her eyes were weak, she relied on her lenses to have normal eyesight, but even so, from far above she noticed the tumbling water tank, which would fall on an unfortunate crew loading it on top of a two story house. It would likely severely injure or kill them.

Swooping down, she increased her speed sharply, and then killed most of her own momentum just as quickly, appearing to most as a sudden blur and a gust of wind. Only then did she hear the screams of the scared workers, mostly curses as they tried to dive away, but she was focused. She caught the falling tank, spreading her hands and arms as much as she could and trying to rest its weight on as large a surface of her body as possible.

If she didn't, she'd just break it herself and the pieces could still hurt somebody. A few dents, however, she didn't much worry about.

Instead of stopping it, she instead slowed it down, such that the people below had time to clear it. She touched the ground almost at feather-fall pace, and slightly bent her knees as she bled off the last bit of momentum.

"Careful there, citizens," she said, offering them a pleasant smile, unhidden by her visor. "Ah, while I'm here - where do you want this?"

The grateful workers actually shared some of their snacks and a can of cola, though jokes were made about how now they wouldn't be able to make money without working off of their insurance.

She flew away after helping them with a little more heavy lifting, as their crane was unfit for it.

Once more, she took to the sky high above, hanging out with the clouds. She smiled to herself for a moment before diving down once again, performing another sweep of the city. She sped off into an alley, where a man was running with a purple purse clearly meant for the arms of a female. He wore drab clothes and looked more than a bit emaciated and frantic.

Not an uncommon sight in Brockton Bay. No gang colors, however.

She blurred in front of him and he impacted her thin and almost lanky frame, almost like a cartoon, before falling back. She smiled down at him. "Are you in a hurry to get somewhere, good sir? I believe I can help you get to your destination!"

He cursed her and spat in her general direction. It hit her left knee. He tried again for her face, but she grabbed onto his clothes and flew him back where he had been running from, whereupon she found that a woman and a young boy were standing, huddled together, while a third person, a bystander, was talking with the police.

"Hello, good neighbors, I believe this is yours?" the hero said, ignoring the flapping of her cape in the wind she had created as she deposited both the mugger, nauseated from the high speed movement, on the ground and the bag in its owner's hands. "My deepest apologies, but I'm afraid the strap was torn when I got to it."

"Oh my god oh my god!"

Apparently that young boy was a girl, or just had an extremely high pitched voice.

Still, she told them their thanks were unnecessary and chatted with them a bit as they waited until the police got there. Once they did, she gave a simple statement and then took to the air once again.

She did a full loop, this time, once more piercing the cover of the clouds to bask in the unimpeded rays of the sun, before shooting down like a rocket, leveling out sharply with a smile on her face just above the three story buildings that lined the street she had come down to. She flew in a straight line, following the streets for a minute until she heard tires screeching and police sirens blaring. Quickly, she shot in that direction, following the sounds and lights.

It took her but a minute to catch up to what looked to be a rather chaotic chase that was now moving into the thankfuly wide and well paved roads that lead outside the city. More police cars joined the chase for a red sports vehicle, she didn't know what kind. Still, she interrupted the chase, diving in right in front of the sports car, noting the two at the front who seemed rather frightened and the ones at the back that hadn't noticed her, both of them firing their assault rifles upon the chasing policemen.

The Heroine opened her mouth to give a grand proclamation, but she was rudely interrupted.

"Emma! Taylor! It's time for dinner!"

Zoe Barnes called. Emma giggled as she noticed her friend instantly let go of the 'custom' Alexandria doll (they'd just repainted an old and worn doll) and suddenly rushed down the stairs. Emma herself only took barely a moment longer, putting the toy car where she wouldn't step on it, to go down herself.

* * *

Just a short little ficlet...


	32. Hope for the World

**Hope for the World**

* * *

Summary: A 'freak accident' landed a young girl in the care of a new mentor from a land far, far away. Now she's back, and her name is Taylor Hebert, DEFENDER OF EARTH (Bet)!

* * *

When he was first told that it was a spaceship, Armsmaster wanted to smack the young girl who came out of the rocket that had half embedded itself in the pavement, somehow only creating a tiny little crater and a small, harmless explosion that somehow only kicked up dust. Even though it had hit the ground at approximately fifty three point six percent of the speed of light.

Needless to say, the entirety of Brockton Bay should be gone after that impact.

The girl who came out was wearing a weird spandex blue suit. Naturally, she was instantly assumed to be a Cape. It was a correct assumption, as she introduced herself as Taylor Hebert, DEFENDER OF EARTH! and even in his mind, Armsmaster heard the caps and the exclamation point.

Naturally, Armsmaster's software was on point, and it only took his systems a minute or so to link Taylor Hebert to the girl who had disappeared months ago from Winslow High School, after apparently preparing some sort of biological weapon in her locker.

Attempting to arrest her on those charges had proven to be a terrible idea, as Armsmaster's broken arms would attest to. Admittedly, at least she apologized after the fact, apparently she had 'forgotten how squishy humans can be'. That raised a few red flags. That would've been bad enough if it hadn't been for the fact that Armsmaster had a horrible realization as he agonized in the ground and she was actually crying as she apologized.

 _Oh fuck, no! NO NO NO! It's like Mouse Protector all over again!_

Armsmaster screamed, though whether it was in pain or anguish, no one but him knew.

* * *

"Silly little man, it seems you have a big idea in your head... to come and conquer me!" she shouted, punctuating her statement with loud, boisterous laughter.

An absolutely massive, forty foot tall dragon crashed to the ground before her, creating great deep gouges on the pavement, half melting it from the white flames that enveloped him, before launching like a missile at her, the flames exploding.

Taylor bent her knees and when the Dragon came in range, jumped into the air and delivered a devastating flying kick to its multi-jointed snout, where she imagined its chin to be, shattering the bones with a satisfying crack and launching the entire dragon into the air.

Smiling, Taylor remembered the lessons given to her by her mentor. There was no point to being a Hero, to being a DEFENDER OF EARTH! if you didn't do it with the correct flair.

* * *

Three thugs surrounded a young girl with lecherous smiles.

Taylor's eyes narrowed as she touched the ground, the sound echoing in the alleyway, bringing the woman's frantic struggles and their laughter to quiet.

"Well I don't mean to go and wreck your day, but you better turn and run away, or there'll be a big, big price to pay!" she ordred, cracking her knuckles.

They didn't.

Taylor could've done without the woman thinking she was a guy and kissing her in gratitude though.

* * *

"'Cuz I am the one you should fear the most!"

A whirling mass of blades and hooks was brought to the ground, the ground cratering beneath his massive form as she performed a half-remembered move, something something Justice Leg Drop.

* * *

"'Cuz I'm the one who'll take you down!"

A pair of twin giants was defeated, disabled and ready for pickup while a man in Iron Armor could only glare impotently, his blades shattering against her Justice Garb, as she finished her speech and pointed her finger at him. Explosions went off behind her, punctuating her statement.

* * *

"And as long as I exist, there's hope for the world!"

Taylor's fist crashed against the watery after image, shattering both her own fist and the 'Water Echo' that had caused so much damage.

She leaped forward and her left fist crashed against Leviathan's face moments after. This time she shattered her entire left arm, but she knocked it flat on its ass and flattened a large portion of the beast's upper body.

It did not make the creature take pause.

The water echo reformed, and with a slap it knocked her back to the beach, and she carved a new trench with her body.

Leviathan was now poised to make a strike.

"So you brought trouble to our girl," a new, loud and unmistakably male voice rang.

"We are here to help you with your attitude," a mature female voice added.

"YOU-THINK-YOU-ARE-SO-BAD, YOU-THINK-YOU'RE-SO-TOUGH-HUH" a robotic voice continued, quickly.

"You better wave the white flag or it will be the end of you!" The first voice shouted.

Three flashes of light and an explosion heralded the arrival of reinforcements.

"We're here to save the world!" three voices shouted.

"DEFENDERS OF EARTH, UNITE!"

There was a massive explosion as the three figures were revealed. It was a man who looked like he was straight out of the fifties, a scantily clad woman with big breasts and a robot that for some reason got everyone thinking of the phrase 'DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!'

However, Leviathan did not care for any of them, and instead it rushed towards its downed target.

As it would deliver the finishing blow, however, there was a flash of green light, and the arm it was going to punch Taylor with went flying off instead of making the full motion to punch, and the main body of Leviathan was thrown away by a massive explosion.

"Kurtis!" Taylor shouted.

"It's not the time to give up yet, Taylor! I TRAINED YOU BETTER THAN THIS!" a... green stuffed penguin with peg legs and bat wings said, somehow managing to look cool despite the fact that it was a green stuffed penguing with peg legs and bat wings.

Taylor's eyes filled with tears. "You guys..!"

"We'd never abandon a fellow DEFENDER OF EARTH!, Taylor!" the man in an outfit reminiscent of Taylor's own shouted. "NOW COME, IT'S TIME TO SAVE YOUR WORLD!"

Leviathan would never know what hit it.

* * *

Fun Fact: While they didn't manage to find a way to kill Scion even with all the Disgaea-tier insanity they're capable of, it's okay.

Captain Gordon knows Laharl, and Kurtis knows a guy that can get Overlord Zenon to drop by for a visit. The Warrior is fucked.

Incidentally, Taylor and the Defenders of Earth boast lyrics out of Power Rangers songs. I was also going to include a sequence where Taylor faced Alexandria in a fight after exposing the Protectorate and PRT's corruption (maybe Cauldron as well) to the tune of I Will Win.

For the record, Sophia skipped town and never got caught, but it's okay. Taylor has powerful friends as a DEFENDER OF EARTH!, and Archangel Flonne is a fan.


	33. Elemental, My Dear

**Elemental, My Dear**

* * *

Summary: In which Taylor accidentally's a team of parahumans that might never have been humans in the first place and almost gets sued for copyright infringement.

* * *

The first time Taylor met a parahuman in the flesh, as far as she knew anyway, was that one time in Summer Camp, when she got super lost in the woods after deciding that it'd be a good idea to get away from the incredibly annoying kids making fun of her by hiding there for a while.

Now, mind you, the woods weren't a very big place, and they weren't very dense, so she wasn't actually even hard to find for anyone even making the slightest effort to track her. Especially because she wasn't exactly leaving everything untouched.

Still, it was rather strange to come to what appeared to be a glade, a circular opening of trees where the canopy opened up enough to let the sun shine through unimpeded. It seemed manmade, and at the very center of it was a gray rock, shaped not unlike a cartoonish rock, the kind that you sat in and somehow managed to be comfortable despite supposedly being a natural formation.

Sitting on it was a very, very tiny girl in a green dress, kicking her legs. She had fairy wings on her back.

Some would've instantly assumed they were seeing a fairy and wondered how much LSD they'd consumed. Taylor, being a parahuman geek in a world of parahumans, just assumed it was a parahuman. "Hi! My name's Taylor!" she said, giving the unknown parahuman a smile.

Let it not go unsaid that substandard parenting had resulted in Taylor not knowing that approaching an unknown parahuman is like approaching an unknown big dog.

So Taylor just walked up to the rock and offered the little fairy girl her hand.

"Hi!" she replied, grabing onto one of Taylor's fingers. "My name's Sylph!"

Fortunately for Taylor, she'd happened to meet a fairly friendly dog that liked getting petted.

As Taylor would discover later that night, from carrying Sylph back to the dorms on her hoodie, she really, REALLY liked getting petted. As a result, Taylor made a great new friend who liked playing with her.

* * *

Sylph became Taylor's only friend shortly after, when Emma Barnes decided that she was too cool for Taylor's friendship.

After telling the redhead to go play with her little girlfriend instead, Taylor ran back home and told Sylph, who'd taken to napping a lot of the time in bundles of Taylor's clothes, all about it.

Unfortunately, Taylor had learned over time that Sylph was... well, pretty airheaded. She insisted on keeping her existence a secret, but constantly forgot abou it. She was also supposed to keep her powers a secret, but she also forgot about that all the time. Admittedly, Taylor wasn't exactly complaining about Sylph bringing in warm or cold breezes when the weather was annoying, or insta-drying clothes with wind, or killing mosquitos by slapping them with wind buffets, cooling down food quickly, getting rid of smells...

Okay so they got a lot of utility out of it, maybe complaining about her use of her powers when she was trying to keep them secret was hypocritical.

It was in the middle of that discussion that Daniel Hebert entered into his house, and Sylph accidentally stumbled upon pretty good advice, as both of them relaxed on the bath tub after an annoying day.

"Why not just tell him? I mean your dad's smart, right?"

* * *

Taylor had not thought she'd wind up in Arcadia instead of Winslow. She had honestly thought her future was pretty set in stone.

Apparently Arcadia was willing to extend that scholarship to her even late in the game. It seemed that despite the fact that most people thought of others as uncaring monsters, they did actually understand that the Hebert family was pulling itself together after tragedy.

Taylor thought she might have missed Emma, but it only took them meeting up one time, at a Barbeque that the Barnes hosted, to rudely awaken Taylor to the fact that her once bestest friend forever was completely gone, replaced by Grade A Bitch, and not even the funny kind.

It would be okay if she wasn't obviously an outsider at Arcadia. Everyone around her had so much more money than she did. She was the poor kid, the charity case, the one nobody wanted to hang out with because of reasons that really went beyond her.

So Taylor was back to a single friend, even though she had a clean slate at Arcadia.

But it was okay. After all, Sylph had gotten so used to traveling around everywhere with Taylor that it just became second nature to take her everywhere, even to class.

Unfortunately, Sylph was still dumb as a rock, and trying to keep up with high school classes was frying her poor brain.

* * *

'Gnomey', as Taylor had been introduced to the short, purple haired parahuman girl, was about as different from Sylph as you could get.

While Sylph was loud and dumb and moved around everywhere and could only sit still when she was napping or playing, Gnome was quiet, intelligent and quite lethargic.

She also liked to make dolls out of mud. Which she could control. They were creepy as fuck, to say the least, but people's reactions to the creepy mud dolls chasing them around in the street?

Those were priceless. That had been the best halloween ever.

They even got to meet the Pelhams from New Wave! They were trick or treating, each of them wearing 'undead' versions of their costumes. Taylor still blushed when she thought of Manpower's massive muscles, easily visible through the ripped shirt he used to simulate having been in a lethal fight. Not even the wound make up could hide the man's Adonis-like physique.

Also it was one of the few times Sylph had been able to walk around. Unsurprisingly, she had wound up finding a costume somehow. She had her ways, she explained. Taylor would have expected something like that movie fairy, the name escaped her, but instead she got herself a white glowing costume and a huge pair of fly-like wings that were hilariously fake, and had been going around shouting 'Hey, Listen!' at people.

Almost late in the night, some guy in a green tunic ran away screaming when he saw her, causing Sylph to laugh.

Gnome had declined a costume, instead just using her cape outfit, which seemed to be the only thing either of the girls wore really. She did not, however, say no to any of the candy.

Later that night would be the first time Gnome slept on a bed.

"I prefer rocks", she'd said, "but this isn't bad."

* * *

"I'M ON FIRE!"

Sylph was on fire.

She was also zipping around so fast that she was little more than an orange and green streak of light.

A torrent of water, far larger and more excessive than it had any need to be, crashed upon her.

When Taylor first saw the mermaid that pulled her head out of the water, she looked like she was made out of toothpaste and seafoam. And because of Sylph's influence, she'd accidentally blurted it out. Prompting Sylph to rush in and actually taste the unknown parahuman, running her tongue over that girl's cheek.

"Hm... no, 'Diney tastes like saltwater, not toothpaste!"

Another torrent of water crashed onto Sylph, launching her back to shore.

Her name was Undine, she introduced herself as that at least, and then asked Taylor what was up with the people throwing trash at the lake.

As it turned out, that was illegal, and there was a massive kerfluffle, as per Roy Christner's words, until they wound up going through a bunch of shell companies. Medhall had been caught red handed, tossing medical supplies into the Lake that the summer camp Taylor attended was built next to.

This apparently resulted in the CEO firing like a dozen people and then stepping down. So that was a victory.

On the other hand, Taylor now had another freeloader, as Undine couldn't exactly live in the lake now that there were tons of people going through the effort of cleaning it up because of all the biohazardous waste. Fortunately, Undine could very easily just live in a bucket, and Taylor's dad was entirely too depressed to ask why Taylor kept a large bucket, more like a tub really, in her room.

Also Undine never left a mess, and even helped clean up the leftover mud from whenever Sylph played around in the mud that Gnome was using to make and remake her dolls.

* * *

"I'M ON FIRE! AGAIN!"

Sylph was on fire. Again.

This time, however, the fire wasn't put out, instead it just left her body and hit the body of a completely naked girl, who wore only white-line tattoos all over her body and flames licking at her skin.

With Undine, her nakedness hadn't been a problem, she was more like a toothpaste-slime looking person.

Unfortunately, the new arrival, her name being Salamander, was naked as the day she was born and more importantly, had very obvious exposed genitalia underneath the flames that covered it.

Taylor didn't even want to imagine just how she was going to acquire flame retardant underwear.

Fortunately, she could control the flames licking at her skin well enough to cover the important parts, enough to let Taylor calm down to the point that she could introduce herself, and explain that she knew the other three, and was curious over the kind of girl who would call all of their attentions at the same time.

As it turned out, Taylor didn't think she was very special, she was just in the right place at the right time. Sylph insisted Taylor was special, but then admitted it was probably just bias because she liked Taylor. Gnome just said Taylor was fun and didn't nag. Undine admitted that she was there almost entirely due to circumstance but liked Taylor well enough.

Salamander seemed satisfied, and decided to stick around. Mostly she stuck to the basement. Apparently sleeping on coal wasn't a new experience to her.

Fortunately for Taylor, her father was entirely too depressed to really question why their heating bills had gone down so much. Honestly, he was too out of it to really care about how all of their bills had gone down a lot, a great deal of details and damages around the house had been repaired, cleaned and a multitude of other things that he really should have noticed.

* * *

"Should I be more sad?"

Taylor frowned.

Emma Barnes had been in an 'accident'.

Apparently she'd been near to a scuffle between a cape and some thugs, and had apparently tried to jump into the fight to defend the cape when the fight turned against them. What was her name? She'd heard it... Shadow Snatcher or something like that? Some violent vigilante.

Undine had gotten good enough at using computers over a week of teaching to research a bit more into the situation out of curiosity.

"Apparently your former friend thought she was... how did Salamander put it..? Yes, hot shit," she said, chuckling lightly. "It says that they got lucky the Protectorate was already looking for Shadow Stalker to arrest her over some of her more brutal assaults."

Taylor frowned. Harder.

"That's bad!" Sylph remarked, with all the intelligence expected from her.

Shrugging in disinterest, Undine went back to playing her strategy game, simulating a naval battle. It was amazing how popular naval battles had become in videogames and fiction in the post-Leviathan world.

Salamander, meanwhile, was outside, in the back yard. She was cooking burgers. She had not been allowed to use her fire control to do so, instead being limited to doing it like a normal person. Beside her was Daniel Ebert.

Salamander was, ultimately, the most human-looking of Taylor's new friends, and so she had been the one chosen to present all four of them as a 'parahuman group' that Taylor had befriended.

It took the man like, a week to get over the fact that she didn't wear clothes, and couldn't because she was permanently on fire.

Salamander was enough of a tomboy that she took pretty well to Taylor's dad, who started treating her like the son he never had.

A resounding slap and a crash brought Taylor's attention to where Gnome and Sylph were playing their own 'game', in which Sylph would flit around Gnome while Gnome would try to slap, squash or crush her. It was good practice for both of them.

* * *

Taylor and her four friends lived quite quietly in the suburbs.

Of course, because Taylor is Taylor Hebert, she couldn't quite always avoid trouble.

Fortunately, most people who attacked her, only did so once.

At least she'd discovered that her friends were hard counters to pretty much all the Big Players in the Bay...

Now if only she could finally get the creepers to stop trying to perv on the team she was managing, that'd be great.

It really just went to show how much of a pervert Parian was, really.

"This is the only design I could think of" my ass, Taylor mused, there's no way she put Salamander in fireman-themed lingerie by accident! That shit was copyrighted, and the Playboy magazine's lawyers were hungry beasts!

* * *

I know what you're thinking.

No. Taylor never triggered in this story. She met the elemental spirits by complete chance.

The QA is too busy studying these impossible critters (literal embodiments of concepts) from a distance. It might grant Taylor powers related to understanding and better... interfacing with them later in life, but for now it's collecting data.

(Incidentally, the way I see it, the elemental spirits are basically concepts incarnate, which means that when it comes to manipulating their element, they vastly outperform the shards, and the shards aren't willing to waste the energy necessary to fight them on it because they're all operating on a limited quantity of energy while the spirits are not)


	34. The Beasts of Brockton Bay

**The Beasts of Brockton Bay**

* * *

Summary: Brockton Bay is often said to be some hellhole city that doesn't match the country around it. Those who live there could tell you it's actually pretty nice, so long as you don't run afoul of a cape on a bad mood.

* * *

Amelia Lavere, also known as Dead Garden, the most versatile Biokinetic in the planet, shoplifted a pretzel.

It was arguably the dumbest thing she could have done at that point. Her father was a millionaire from his legit business enterprises, and a multimillionaire from the illegal ones. Her monthly allowance was bigger than what most people make in a year. Not to mention the fact that as Dead Garden was famous for volunteering at hospitals despite being a well known villain, daughter of a man who had absolutely no objections with turning people into boneless piles of meat, meant that she usually could get stuff with discounts or even outright free.

So why had she shoplifted that pretzel, you might ask?

Because she was a relatively sheltered little girl who had never actually done anything remotely villainous, or at least befitting her status, and her new friend, the daughter of a business associate of her father's, had dared call her a heroic individual.

It took only ten minutes for Amy to go back to the pretzel stand, almost crying, while an angry girl directed her to apologize to the salesman, who wasn't entirely certain on how to interact with the little girls making a scene.

And that would be the first time Amy would interact with Taylor Hebert, getting scolded for being a villainous individual... even though she was a villain to begin with.

* * *

Bradley 'just call me Brad' Meadows was many things.

Good at Basketball was not one of them, as he found out.

Of all things for him to lose at, it'd been the sport he'd played in highschool. And he lost to the fucking nerd that was Alabaster, of all people. He'd never live that one down, and he couldn't even kill him to keep him quiet because the fucker would just keep reseting and Kaiser would be pissed about the mess, and while Hookwolf normally wouldn't care all that much about Max's sissy tirades about the quality of his rug, he did care about the fact that Max was a vindictive little shit and would likely find some way to fuck Brad in a way he'd never be able to tell.

In the end, he told Alabaster to go eat a bucket of dicks, hopped on his bike and went to his favorite bar downtown.

Once there, he paid for his usual to the bartender and went to his usual table. Some would've found the lack of slurs towards the Mexican waitress that brought him his drinks and food to be quite weird. However, those people would be shocked to learn that Bradley Meadows was not so much racist, as he was just an asshole using a convenient excuse for general misandry.

Also the girl was just plain hot. Nice, big and round ass, plentiful breasts and a perchant for masochism was everything he wanted in a partner. He drank his beer. Admittedly, that also described Cricket, before that unfortunate training accident that resulted in the loss of her left boob. Eh, the right one was still good.

Brad was lost in thought, thinking about the possibility of turning his penis into a chainsaw when he noticed a gang of bikers strolled into the place, were acting like jackasses and harassing the bartender. They were also more than a bit handsy with the two waitresses. But in all honesty, even though he had already determined he'd intervene as soon as he was done with his beer, they decided that waiting to get their teeth kicked in was not a good idea at all, because one of those fuckers decided to push the other into Brad's table and knocked the food and drink off of it.

Brad had actually liked that pair of pants. Track pants his size usually made him look fat. Not even bringing the sweatshirt into the equation, he was pretty fucking pissed.

Fortunately they were dumb enough to follow him outside when he said he didn't want to break the bar with their faces.

Unfortunately for them, Brad had quite a bit of experience keeping the blades under his skin. They found out the hard way that he hit like a truck, when he knocked the first, most boisterous and largest of them, with a single punch, the satisfying crunch of his nose being broken being the herald to a kick that likely broke his pelvis.

Brad wasn't keen on holding back on those idiots.

When he was cleaning his hands in the bar's bathroom later, he idly wondered if they would be discovered in time for them to recover full mobility.

Eh, probably not. Then again, being a jackass in public in Brockton Bay had been reclassified as Suicide by Cape, last year, at least in terms of public opinion. So even the hospital would probably treat them like the idiots that they are.

* * *

Kenta, no longer remembering his last name, rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Considering the amount of gang leaders that had been killed or permanently crippled or turned into vegetables by spontaneous triggers, he legitimately had to wonder if his people were trying to die, and doing everything in their power to die.

He wondered this as he put a blanket on a dumb white bitch's shoulders, before moving away and allowing one of his female lieutenants to take her into a side room, where she'd be given a warm drink and would be prodded to tell them her address, so they knew where to take her, or if they needed to get her off of the city in a hurry.

Switching to Mandarin, because he knew it pissed them off, Lung turned to address the former leader of the Chinese Alliance, ironically born and raised in Rhode Island. "Were you born this dumb or did you practice?" he asked.

People 'knew' that the ABB had 'farms' where they locked girls in for the purpose of prostitution and enslavement. The people who believed that seemed to conveniently forget that cesspools of misery and suffering tended to result in someone triggering and blowing up everything in their vicinity. Lung knew this, because he had triggered while near death, suffering and miserable. And he had once busted open an operation of a Japanese Gang attempting to sell Korean teens into slavery, at which point a girl had triggered and very nearly killed him. Last he heard she was living in some middle of nowhere town in Ohio.

Later he'd even gotten statistics of how many human trafficking rings had been discovered post-destruction because they'd pushed someone to the point of triggering.

How and why people were still doing it was beyond Kenta. He was The Dragon, the one who could shrug off most weapons even before he started ramping up, and even he was wary of pushing people into triggering.

After the idiot former leader's tirade was finished, Kenta not having paid attention to a word of it, he just placed a hand on top of the man's head.

Then he began to squeeze. His hand began to heat up. The men scrambled. One of them even had the gall to shoot him. The conflict drove Lung's power, fed it, strengthened the Dragon.

Soon, there was a hand shaped burn all over the man's head, now bald as his hair had been burned off.

The man who shot him had a moment to contemplate just how horrible of a mistake he had made before Lung crushed his hand and then burned him as well.

"You dare defy The Dragon," he said, "you are now marked. There will be no more warnings! You will do as I say, or you will die!"

He finished his speech and drew himself to his full height.

"ARE. WE. UNDERSTOOD.!?"

The distortion created by his growing body was not enough to make his impeccable Mandarin difficult to understand. They all acknowledged.

Later, when he was at his home, Kenta sighed. Keeping the ABB in line was a full time job. Too many disparaging philosophies, cultures and even identities. Furthermore, the gangs were used to doing things a certain way, and their previous methods of operation simply didn't hold water in a world where at any given point, anyone might become a dragon empowered by rage and conflict.

* * *

Faultline pretended that her powers were weaker than they really were, and she was very used to it.

It worked outside. People just didn't believe that she could do the things that she could. They were used to this funny idea that buildings are sturdy, and that someone can't just collapse a building in under a minute with their minds. But Faultline could very easily do that. She pretended she needed contact to cut things, when in reality if she could see it, she could cut it.

Being Manton Limited was only a problem if you were facing a flier. Anybody else, though, knew to be wary of Faultline at the best of times.

That was why the bar she was known to run did not actually need a Bouncer at its door. The Palanquin was a popular place. Good music, good atmosphere, good drinks. The Nightclub had actually started off as a trashier place, she mused, before she became the mercenary she was today. Back then she could barely afford to keep the place open, these days she had quite a few rather wealthy patrons per week.

Even better was being recognized as a neutral place where heroes and villains, disguised in their civilian identities, could talk without fear of anything going wrong - Faultline and her crew guaranteed safety to all those within the Palanquin, and while she was not the strongest cape in the Bay, she had a good reputation and a strong team.

Which was why she found herself hosting the monthly poker game between all the big players of the Bay, and being the dealer for said game, owing to the fact that she had a terrible poker face.

Not the case for Miss Militia, who was sitting on a rather noticeably larger pile of chips than everyone else at the table.

The Protectorate's representative should, in theory, be Armsmaster, as he was the leader of the Protectorate ENE. However, Armsmaster was many things, but a man who you wanted to spend an evening with was not one of them. Therefore when Miss Militia had come as a substitute, nobody had really complained.

You'd expect the resident Nazi to complain about the Middle Eastern woman 'taking a white man's job', but Faultline had the sneaking suspicion that Kaiser was less of a Nazi himself and more of a colossal asshole using the Nazi ideology for quickly recruiting morons. She was not entirely certain whether that made him a worse human being or a better one.

It was weird to think that a 'hero' was playing poker at a table with not one, not two but three known murderers. Kaiser, representing the Empire 88. The Marquis, representing the Marche. Lung, representing the Azn Bad Boys. All three with known body counts, all three leaders of a major gang in the city.

As if that weren't enough, Coil had thrown his hat in the ring as well. As the man was probably the richest man in the Bay, nobody was exactly objecting to his presence, and he did have a small army of extremely well trained and equipped mercenaries. His territory may be small, but it was very rich.

After dealing everyone their cards, Faultline sat back and allowed them to gauge each other. She watched their tells. All of them were skilled and experienced, and all of them had their little quirks that showed off their hands if you knew what to look for.

Of course, because fuck forbid things go smoothly, just as Kaiser was about to lay down his four Jacks to win the admittedly small pot that he and the Marquis had been contesting over, an idiot with an automatic pistol kicked the door to the private room down.

As it turns out, some sort of wannabe gang was trying to take everyone out at once, having somehow found out about the gathering.

Needless to say, this went... poorly.

* * *

Amy frowned at her friend. "Was not!" she said, her tone having an air of finality to it, almost as if she hadn't just spent half an hour repeating the same phrase.

Taylor looked nonplussed, then unlocked Amy's phone, went to the picture gallery, and began to browse. Amy tried to stop her, but Amy was short for her age and Taylor was very tall for her age, so it was easy to keep her away with a single hand while scrolling through the pictures. With a satisfied sound, Taylor then turned the phone to Amy. It showed a picture of a girl's butt in a miniskirt.

Amy blushed bright red.

"Okay so what if she's pretty hot?" she huffed. "It doesn't make me a l-lesbian if I just find girls attractive! I mean, you keep saying that girls are pretty and nobody's calling you a lesbian!"

Taylor sighed. "You can appreciate someone's aesthetic appeal without being sexually attracted to them. I can tell you that Glory Girl has a fantastic ass without wanting to touch it. I mean, she does - she works out and it shows, or maybe it's her power or whatever, but the point is, you can find people attractive without being hot for them."

"Then why am I a lesbian because I like how she looks?" Amy countered.

"Well, the fact that you were drooling when I caught you staring at this shot should say enough," Taylor said with a smile. "Anyway, you really shouldn't be so ashamed of it. I mean, I hear that back in mom and dad's time it was seen as a really bad thing, but things have changed now! We're not gonna be stoning gay people in the streets! Which, did you know? It actually used to happen, and in fact, some equated it to bestiality because-"

"Taylor, stop," Amy said, rolling her eyes. "I don't need a lecture," she said. Taylor in chatterbox mode was already bad enough, but Taylor in Chatterbox Teacher mode? That resulted in Amy wanting to hang herself. "I don't think there's anything wrong with being gay, it's just that-"

"Well I'm not the person to talk to about this," Taylor admitted. "Maybe you should talk to your dad?"

Amy winced. "Dad's... a bit old fashioned," she said, slowly.

"Well, maybe you should talk to mom about it. Mom always makes your dad listen to anything she says."

Amy sighed. "Maybe..."

* * *

Anne 'Annette' Hebert was many things.

A government agent that pretended to be an English Teacher was an apt description for her, as some would learn moments before they had their brains turned into goop and all the information in them extracted. 'Brain Drain' had been a bit of a joke of a name at first, but it had stuck with her for quite a while, even post retirement.

Antoine Lavere, father to Amelia Lavere, knew her well. He knew her, because he'd been one of the first to find out that getting information out of people's brains wasn't the only thing she could do.

Needless to say, his attempt at muscling into the docks and intimidating the dockworkers had not worked as intended. Unfortunately the end result had been that Brain Drain found out about his daughter and used her as leverage to keep Marquis from being the villain he normally was, and instead setting him on the path to being more of an old school mobster, being an unofficial 'police force' for the docks, than the murderous psychopath he used to be.

Unrelenting Force and the Machinist, his only parahuman Lieutenants, had once tried to set up a gang of their own, and had achieved some success despite being the filthiest and most disgusting people in the Bay.

That was, until Brain Drain literally poured different personalities into them. Not so much replacing what they were, but altering it. It was amazing how knowing more things about life could change your outlook on it, and it was interesting to find out Brain Drain could actually alter brains to get rid of addictions, of all things.

Unrelenting Force, formerly known as Skidmark, was certainly thankful. Adam, to his friends, was most thankful about the fact that she'd expanded his vocabulary, because the man could not string three sentences together without at least forty five swear words in them, each unique.

Even the Marquis had actually found himself laughing at some of his more creative tirades.

The Machinist, or Sherrel to her friends, was constantly bemoaning the fact that she was no longer allowed to build tanks.

All three of the Marche's parahumans had gathered that day, called by Brain Drain for a meeting with them.

She opened it by smiling, offering them tea and biscuits (which the Marquis had instructed them to politely decline, as they were awful on purpose), and then dropping the bomb on Antoine that his daughter was gay, and had a crush on a heroine, of all people.

Marquis wanted to be angry, wanted to be intolerant because he was an old fashioned man, wanted to be angry that his daughter was gay...

But none of that mattered because a far larger part of himself decided right then and there, he'd put the fear of god into Glory Girl, lest she ever consider it an even remotely okay idea to break his little girl's heart!

* * *

Meanwhile, Max Anders and his wife, Kayden Anders, were stuck in traffic.

"I blame Lung for this," Max said, idly.

Kayden rolled her eyes. "You always blame Lung for traffic jams."

"Just let me be in my happy place, Kayden."

Rolling her eyes, Kayden checked her cellphone. Then she sighed. "We're never gonna get there in time... did you at least remember to pack the gift?"

It was her sister's wedding, after all.

Kayden felt that if she didn't show up with a great gift from her millionaire husband she'd look bad. So she bought a toaster and hid a card that said "thanks for the cake" in it. It was sarcastic, Kayden mused, her sister was a vegan and would not allow any animal product to be used at all, so no wedding cake. At least, not one that tasted even remotely of cake.

Sighing again, Kayden wondered if remaining on good terms with her parents was worth putting up with her sanctimonious shitstain of a sister. She wondered how she'd even found a man, let alone one as nice as the one she had. At least the man wasn't constantly trying to feed everyone he came across food that they didn't want...

"At this point I'm wondering if it'd just be faster to shoot a hole in the ground and drive through the tunnel. You can line it up with steel right?"

It spoke of their mutual frustration that Max seriously considered just outing the both of them to get out of traffic.

Fortunately, they started moving soon after. However, it was the column next to theirs that was moving faster. And when Max turned to look at them pass at a walking pace while he was moving at a snail's, he saw the shit eating grin in the asian man's face.

He knew that face.

"Fuck you," Max muttered to himself, "from the depths of my soul, fuck you!"

Lung saluted and drove off, the column moving faster by the second.

* * *

"You might be wondering," Piggot stated, as she sat heavily on her plush chair, "how we manage to maintain a calm situation in this city even though there are so many powerful parahumans here, many of which have power sufficient to obliterate cities within a short period of time."

The incoming PRT Director, her replacement after she retired, nodded.

"It's a very simple system," she explained, opening a key locked compartment of her desk and placing a file between them.

The incoming director opened and read it. He seemed confused.

"Why this civilian girl? What is so important about her?" he asked.

"That," Piggot said, "is the key to this whole city remaining peaceful," she said. Then she put a few more files on the desk, from another compartment.

The files were all severely classified. They contained villainous parahumans' identities, and penalties would be brutal should they be made public.

Dead Garden, also known as Amelia Lavere. The Marquis, known as Antoine Lavere, a false name but the one he was legally registered under as far as they knew. Brain Drain, also known as Anne Hebert. Three parahumans, all major players in the bay. Dead Garden was the premier healer of the world, pretty much. The Marquis was known for his brutality, his code of honor and the fact that he had killed three members of the Slaughterhouse nine.

Brain Drain, nominally a 'hero' because she was the Government's torturer and information gatherer, was also a former villain who used to work with a radical feminist turned terrorist.

"Those three. Her mother, her best friend, and her best friend's father," she summarized. "Dead Garden has confirmed that she can create flesh eating bacteria that dissolve human corpses in seconds. The Marquis has slaughtered dozens and used their bodies as bombs to slaughter more," admittedly that'd been Spree clones, but still, "and finally, Brain Drain, who can not only drain, but also impart, knowledge and abilities."

"What about them?"

Piggot sighed. Her replacement was dumb, she could tell. He wouldn't live very long at this rate. "Brain Drain once sent me a letter. It contained the civilian identities of every Ward and Protectorate Hero, their home addresses, mine and Renick's as well, and a variety of incriminating information regarding our handling of the Shadow Stalker case."

"That's why the girl got sent to Juvie even after she took the deal, right?" the man asked.

"Yes," Piggot said. "Incidentally, I received a letter from Costa Brown right after, telling me to just give her what she wanted. Apparently she's got blackmail on the Chief."

The Director whistled. There wasn't much of that, as far as anyone could find.

"She has blackmail on everyone. Those three? They keep the order here. If the Empire acts out, their identities will be made public and their lives destroyed, and they have a lot to lose. If the ABB acts out, the Marquis will just kill them. They do this because that little civilian girl lives here," Piggot said.

"I see," the incoming Director said. "I suppose that working with them to ensure peace would be a priority, then?"

Piggot nodded. "As much as I hate it, the Protectorate forces simply aren't enough to fight the villains in this city, and the independant team here has... issues..."

* * *

Brandish was throwing a fit over the parahuman-power grown roses that Glory Girl was so happy about. Admittedly, she was secretly happy her daughter was straight and had rejected Dead Garden, even if that made her feel guilty over the homophobic undertones of such happiness.

An amused Mark had even told her to go kiss a girl if she felt so bad about it. What made Carol even guiltier was that she did actually wind up discovering her own bisexuality.

Well, at least Mark was happy for once.

* * *

Armsmaster was one of the best Tinkers in the world. The only reason he wasn't the best was because Dragon existed.

Considering he was currently dating Dragon and they worked together on quite a few projects, his work was basically the best Tinkertech in the world as it had input of the Best Tinker in the World, whom he had learned could not actually design any new technology, only derivatives of someone else's tech.

As it turns out, it was a weakness similar to his - he needed to shrink -something- in order for his powers to work, and between him and Dragon they were basically building improved versions of other people's tech.

Like his Dragon Arms SuperTech Omnitool Halberd, the one that used space-warping technology to literally cram everything they could think of into it. With an onboard AI that would link up to his combat prediction software to automatically use the weapon that it considered would be effective against his enemy, as well as direct Armsmaster when it came to using it.

Too bad it was still entirely on the planning face right now, because how the hell was he gonna obtain Dark Matter to fuel the Matter Annihilation Engine that it would need in order to actually function? Well, hopefully some other Tinker would find a solution they could steal. That only left creating the AI, which Dragon was adamant should not be crippled because being a crippled AI sucks, and the actual framework.

Miss Militia entered his workshop, and Armsmaster pulled back, wiping the sweat off his face and almost stopping to flex his well muscled body. Dragon's virtual avatar had progressed quite a bit since she'd first designed it, as it could now drool and blush almost naturally.

"Armsmaster, why are you not wearing pants," Miss Militia asked.

"They got in the way," Armsmaster said. "I have designed a new suit," he said, gesturing to what looked to be a pile of blue goop on the floor. "And I must not be wearing anything when I put it on."

"That's just goop," Miss Militia said. "It's... moving?"

It was indeed, trembling a little.

Armsmaster nodded. "It's the new suit. I'll show you. ARMSSUIT, ENGAGE!" he yelled.

First the goop morphed into an exclamation sign, almost taller than Armsmaster himself and as thick as a bodybuilder bear's arm. Then it turned into a net and wrapped around Armsmaster, before beginning to fill the 'holes' with silvery-blue material.

Finally, it finished, leaving Armsmaster in a much sleeker and slimmer version of his armor. It seemed to be spray painted on in some places, which Miss Militia figured it kind of was.

"... I can see your bulge," Miss Militia said, idly.

Armsmaster looked down. His bulge was indeed very visible. He hummed for a moment, and then a crotch guard formed over it, hiding it from view.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," Miss Militia agreed. "Ahem. The New Director arrived. Perhaps you want to make a good impression?"

"Then I should show off my new suit, you think?" Armsmaster asked.

"Depends," Dragon said. "Man or woman?"

"Man," Miss Militia said.

"Then yes."

As it turns out, the new director was Gay, and Dragon still wound up jealous.

* * *

Dinah woke up with a start.

Then she grabbed her phone from her nightstand and dialed the emergency hotline for the Protectorate. She was a Parahuman, after all...

Later, when she was in their offices, she sat down with Armsmaster and Miss Militia. "I want to make one thing completely clear," then she cleared her throat and adopted a slightly fish eyed and mouthed expression, _"I can see the future!"_ she screamed, then took a deep breath. "Okay, now that we're clear on that-"

"Why'd you just do that?" Miss Militia asked.

"78.099% chance of you believing what I have to say if I started the conversation like that, for reasons that are beyond me," Dinah said, "now shut up and listen, this is important," she added, coughing a little as her throat was entirely too sore from that scream. "It's very, very important that you don't forget this, okay?"

The two nodded.

"There's a 89.430% chance that in the event that Taylor Hebert triggers, this world will come to an end."

* * *

Dinah Alcott was not as young as she looked, or pretended to be.

When you've lived the same ten year span for dozens, if not over a hundred times, you can no longer claim to be a spry young'un, no matter your looks. She still remembered the face of her savior, from all the way back then.

She still remembered the dark room, she remembered Coil. She remembered a world so very different from this one, where her savior was herself a victim. A world where Brockton Bay was a miserable place, where nobody wanted to live.

She still remembered her only ray of light, her only hope, her savior, who had risked everything to save her that first time...

She still remembered the many times Taylor Hebert had lost everything for her sake. Every time she saw Taylor Hebert die was engraved into her very soul.

In over a hundred loops, Dinah had never, not even once, seen Taylor fail to save her. No matter the circumstances. No matter how different the world was. No matter whether she had powers or not. Every single time, Taylor had been the one to rescue her from the deep darkness.

Was it so strange, then, that Dinah would wish to save her savior in return?

In the end, Dinah kept silent. About her true power, unrelated to the Warrior. About her many, many lives. About her reasons, even.

Dinah kept silent, about her feelings.

It didn't matter, as Dinah watched Taylor's nervous and shy smile, while at a Meet & Greet with the Wards.

It didn't matter, if Taylor would never know of the work and sacrifice that Dinah made for her sake. Because in the end, the only reward she'd ever need was that beautiful smile, from slightly too wide lips and eyes too big behind glasses she still hadn't grown into, which filled Dinah's heart with warmth.

That made every bit of pain worth it, to construct a world where she could live happily.

* * *

Hoo.

Well, tbh, the ending is pretty rushed here because I ran out of patience and these arne't supposed to go so damn long anyway. Ahem.

Dinah's changes manifest in forms she's not entirely aware of, and sometimes fucking with the timeline has effects that go decades before she reappears, simply because the 'rope' that is the timeline gets frayed and when it's 'fixed' it's not put together exactly the same again.

This is a timeline where the villains are all signficantly less... evil, for lack of a better term, and much more interested in actually having lives like normal people. I mean they're still villains so they're still selling drugs, intimidating, burning stuff, vandalizing, etc. They're just not going to the extreme of human trafficking or holding rallies where they brutalize and execute minorities.

Anne's shard is a bud off of Lustrum's.

Taylor still has the QA. Danny triggered with a bud off of it, he runs a Fight Club offscreen. He doesn't know that his ability to enforce its rules comes from the QA's bud.

Shadow Stalker attacked some of Annette's agents in the gangs and got punished for it, she never really knew why other than her behavior.

Taylor triggering doesn't actually end the world, Dinah is omitting the information that involves how it happens, namely, Taylor triggering is part of the chain of events that results in the end of the world.

The numbers go slightly down with every new timeline.

In this timeline, Hero's name was Bob, the Siberian looks like Manton's mother instead of his daughter, and Riley is a boy.

No incubators were harmed in the making of this fic.


	35. To Be A Dork

**To Be A Dork**

* * *

Summary: A bored Taylor, a hopeful Greg, an apathetic Sparky and friendship. Bullet Hell ensues.

* * *

Greg sat down and passed Taylor his portable console. He'd just lost his last life. He absent mindedly cursed himself because he'd been distracted and been unable to dodge a very simple pattern.

Taylor laughed and shook her head. "You keep saying you're gonna beat my scores but it's not happening," she said, pressing the start button, selecting her character, and waiting through the start up sequence as she spoke.

By the time Greg finished grumbling nonsense, the level had started, and Taylor was already in the zone. Opposite to them, Sparky was banging a pair of sticks on the table, following the rhythm of the background music in the game Taylor was playing, absent mindedly.

Greg seemed distressed that nobody was paying attention to him, but resigned himself to his fate as he watched Taylor utterly destroy his confidence in his ability at playing games. For a moment, he considered cursing himself for ever introducing the girl to the ultra hard bullet hell genre, because he'd once thought that at least he was the best at something. Well, best in his class at any rate.

Then again, he'd never been so close to a girl that wasn't telling him to go fuck himself before. Admittedly, now that he actually had a girl in his proximity, he found it strangely... odd. He didn't really want to make sexual advances on her. Granted, Taylor had never been one of the pretty girls, but even she had been 'beautiful' (read, anything female and not over 300 pounds) to him before she'd actually finally agreed to sit down to lunch with him.

It was strange, but then again, she had systematically destroyed a great many of his misconceptions about life, just from the fact that she was a girl and could confirm that, yes, girls fart and pee too.

* * *

Taylor took a deep breath. She felt every muscle tense for an instant, and then she exploded into a flurry of movement. Three steps was all it took, she reached the ledge and jumped, arms to her side, letting gravity carry her as she turned her jump into a dive.

The world blurred. She was free from the ground now. Nobody bothered her. The only sound she heard was the wind rushing.

She saw him long before he ever saw her.

By the time the so called Hero, Dauntless, had prepared to grab onto her to slow her descent, she was ready. He was shouting something, but she didn't hear.

There was a sound not unlike a sonic boom and she left him reeling, turning on an almost ninety degree angle, adjusting so she was perpendicular to the ground, flying into the distance.

It seemed that her actions had apparently shocked the 'Hero', who had decided that chasing after her would be a good idea. She certainly hoped that his current speed wasn't his top speed, because that'd make the chase quite boring. He was fast, but he was fast compared to the groundbound.

He was gaining on her, and when he was close enough to hear him, he began shouting unintelligible commands - likely telling her to slow down or stop. She slowed down a bit and turned around to face him, flying backwards still. "I've heard you can shoot lightning from your lance, is it true?" Taylor asked him, as they both flew leisurely into the coastline.

"Yes, but what-"

"The rules are simple, hero boy. Every attack must be possible to dodge, and we stick strictly to non-lethal!" Taylor said, smiling to herself. Her hands itched. She gathered power into the tips of her fingers, and swept both hands across the air. A simple start - ten bullets, spread into two crescents of five that intersected. As expected, he dodged by going up.

She smirked and shot a single beam. A warning shot. The width of her finger. It nearly knocked his helmet off, crossing the distance between them in less than the blink of an eye. "If you play with the third dimension, I'll do so as well. For your own sake, dodge left or right, because you won't be able to dodge left, right, up and down at the same time!"

"Are you insane? Is this just a game to you?"

Taylor laughed. "Of course it is!" Taylor said. "Now if you really want a shot at capturing me-"

He exploded into speed, catching up with her an instant. "I'm not playing games, you're under-"

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted when she hit him with a relatively weak blast. It completely distroyed his breastplate, leaving sizable burns in his chest. She grabbed him by the remains of his bodysuit and held him up. "You lose," she said, idly. "Continue?" she asked.

* * *

Taylor yawned.

"Taylor, listen to me! We're going to the PRT right now!"

She was bored. "You can go if you want," she said, snuggling into her pillow. "Do whatever, I don't care."

"I- You'll come with me!" Danny shouted, his voice carrying across the house, intense and nearly booming in the empty rooms.

Taylor sat up on her bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "I don't want to."

"I don't care, I'm your father, you'll do what I say-"

Taylor laughed. "That's a good one," she said.

He was red, nearly turning purple, as he took a step towards her. Maybe he thought it was threatening or something. "You, you-"

"I what?" Taylor asked, yawning again. "If you don't have anything interesting to say, can you just fuck off? I'm trying to sle-"

The sound of skin on skin, of flesh on flesh, rang across the room.

Danny Hebert looked at his own hand, horrified at what he had done.

Taylor looked at him. Then she laughed. "Oh, this is rich. You roll over when the school fucks over and destroys my life. You roll over when they expel my friends because they were trying to help me. You roll over when your so called friend lies his ass off to protect his daughter, but when your own daughter tells you to fuck off because she wants to sleep, then Big Man Danny brings out his hands, huh?"

"Taylor, I- I- I can't- I'm-"

"I really don't care," Taylor said. "You know what, fuck this, and fuck you, I'm out of here. See you never, probably."

* * *

Taylor patted her now full belly, as the nervous waiter handed her the bill. She paid him with some of her illegally obtained drug money. Just because it'd previously belonged to a bunch of crackheads didn't mean it wasn't just as valid as any other money. Even if it was a little bit dirty.

She left the restaurant in a better mood.

As she left, she saw Victoria Dallon, AKA Glory Girl, walking into the restaurant with her sister, that millionaire boyfriend of hers, and some pretty boy that was also probably wealthy.

Glory Girl saw her, and seemed to be itching for a fight.

Taylor yawned. "If you're eager for another round, I'm always game." Taylor blinked. "Hey there Amy. So she hasn't realized yet, huh."

"Realized what?" Victoria asked, somewhat surprised, shocked out of her reverie.

Amy turned red. "It's nothing, just... ignore her."

"Wait you know each other?" Victoria asked.

"Kinda," Taylor said. "I mean, who doesn't know 'Panacea'?" Taylor said with a smirk.

Amy glared at her. "She's even worse when you get to know her," Amy said. "Unfortunately I don't have a choice in the matter."

"Is... is she blackmailing you?" Glory Girl's boytoy asked.

"None of your business," Amy said, rudely, "what do you even want, you bitch?"

"Well if we're gonna be like that, then I'll be going," Taylor said, sniffing at her. "Can you at least tell your sister so she doesn't arrange you dates that leave you even more of an irritable bitch than usual?"

"Eat my ass," Amy grumbled.

"No thanks, I prefer sausage," Taylor said. "Speaking of which..."

She took off into the sky.

"What just happened," the boy Victoria had invited into a double date asked.

* * *

Taylor looked at the Simurgh.

The Simurgh looked back.

"You know the rules," Taylor said. "Everything must be escapable. Everything must be nonlethal. If you break the rules, so will I. And I'm not limited like you are, so we both know the result of that, yes?"

Slowly, almost calculatingly, the Simurgh nodded.

Taylor smiled widely. "Okay, girl, it's time to show me what you've got!" she said, taking a figurative step back and setting off at a sedate pace, the Simurgh in pursuit. Then Taylor used her first attack, creating massive patterns of bullets in the sky, which the Simurgh deftly weaved and bobbed through, while shooting back with her own invisible, telekinetic bubbles of force.

* * *

Taylor sat on the couch.

"Look, not that I mind your friends crashing at my place, Greg, but I don't think harboring a well known villain is a good idea. Especially since they know you're her friend."

Greg's mom was scolding him while they were eating. Taylor sat at the table with them after a few moments.

"Hey there," Greg said. "How you feeling?"

"Eh, been worse," Taylor said. "Will probably be way better once my flu's gone. Also, don't worry about that, I'm sure the PRT is going to be way less focused on going after me, since I handed them the Undersiders on a platter."

"It went that poorly?" Greg asked, wincing. He still remembered looking up pictures of Tattletale.

"It was going really well until one of them sicced her dogs on me. I didn't take that shit from the guy that spawned me, I'm sure as hell not taking that shit from some upstart teenagers in the shitty part of a shitty city," Taylor said, a bit of vicious anger creeping into her tone. It was strange how deeply the thought of being betrayed in a place she'd been invited to in good faith angered her. "Eh. I'll explore some options."

Greg offered her spaghetti.

"Actually, I was in the mood for some Asian Cuisine... I wonder if the Tofu place is open still..."

It was. She ate next to a funny Korean man that was apparently trying to break into the market of standup comedy. She wished him well.

* * *

AKA: Taylor finds solace in 2hu, and becomes a 2hu herself.


	36. Vicky the Edgelord

**Victoria Dallon, Edgelord Extraordinaire**

* * *

Summary: I AM THE NIGHT!

* * *

It was a well known fact that parahumans are, by the very nature of their existence, weird people. Most of them were insane, one way or another, because they had never quite recovered from whatever traumatic experience had granted them their powers. Perhaps less so in the case of 'second generation' triggers, but still notably insane, the lot of them.

Sometimes, it manifested in violent spurts of anger that resulted in unstoppable rampages. Sometimes it made someone completely obsessed with any given thing that caught their fancy.

However, for some, it just made them... dumb.

* * *

The heroine of the night crouched, still, her costume cool and dry despite the humid and heavy weather. Her cape, dark as the night, fluttered dramatically in the air behind her as she surveyed-

"Vicky can you stop narrating to yourself?" her cousin, Laserdream, AKA Crystal Pelham, said, frustration evident in her voice.

The heroine didn't listen, for she had to keep her eyes and ears peeled and tuned to the-

"Look there's someone mugging a nice old lady right there!"

It was true!

The Heroine jumped, deciding that the night was too young to fly. She landed next to the old lady, scaring the bajeezus out of her, while the thug used that momentary distraction to take off running with the old lady's bag. The Heroine wasted no time, easily catching up with the inferior thug and tackling him to the ground. He was a contemptible existence, a leech, a worm, squirming in the mud, feeding upon the carcasses of his superiors, and-

"Look can you just... take me to prison or something? I'd take jail over having to listen to her pretentious bullshit any day," the mugger begged Laserdream, who just smiled amusedly.

"Oh, hell now, I've had to put up with it all day, so now that I can weaponize it, you're damn right I'm gonna weaponize it!"

-for she was the representative of Truth, Justice, and the revenge of the downtrodden upon their... uh... trodders?

"You need to buy a thesaurus dear," the nice old granny said. "Would you like some cookies? I was taking them to my grandaughter's house but since you saved me I can spare a few."

The heroine, who was much too cool to accept outright, pretended to refuse the delicious cookies, as she could never accept a reward for doing what was her rightful duty, yet secretly the intoxicating smell of freshly baked cookies was beginning to drive her mad, for the nice granny was really an excellent baker, but the heroine was a tortured and duty driven soul, who could not-

"Well if stuffing her face full of cookies makes her stop, I think we know who the real hero here is," the mugger said.

"Amen to that," Crystal said, all three laughing while 'The heroine' continued to enjoy the delicious cookies. "You're still going to jail though."

"Fair enough... can I have a cookie though? They smell REALLY good."

"Of course dear," the Granny said.

And then the cops came, and they too had some cookies. They were really that good. Triple chocolate chip, man!


	37. Calydon

**Calydon**

* * *

Summary: In which Taylor gets a pet cat. This doesn't go well for anybody.

* * *

Daniel 'Danny' Hebert was a simple man, of simple tastes and simple mind. He was a man who directed, a man who accepted directions, a man who loved and was loved in turn, a man who hated and was hated in turn. A normal human being, so to say. He had once had a wife that he loved very much, but she had passed away not too long ago. He was in a bit of a funk because of that, but it wouldn't be until a chance conversation with his daughter that he realized just how deeply he was hurting her by focusing so completely on his own grief.

Unfortunately, despite the passing thought remarking on how horrible of a father he was, he did not solve the situation. Instead, it simply sank him further. Made him guiltier. Angrier at himself. He focused more on his job, trying to do the one thing he felt he 'could' do, and provide for his daughter.

But she hadn't wanted, or needed that. She was alone, drifting away from her former friendships. She had been recovering, too, until he sent her to that thrice-damned summer camp. When she came back she'd seemed fine at first, but then... Then she started withdrawing into herself, and since Danny had long since washed his hands off of his daughter's woes, he didn't know what was going on.

In the end, it wouldn't be until a passing comment from a younger man that Danny would get an idea. He wasn't an emotional man, wasn't good at comforting or helping someone through their emotional issues, but he could at least try the unwitting advice of some.

To that end, he bought his daughter a pet.

Nothing too fancy. A gray cat, he didn't even know what kind of cat it was, only that it was a kitten, it could survive away from its mother, and it needed love, care and attention that would likely take Taylor's mind off of whatever was troubling her.

Despite all of his misgivings and fears...

It worked.

His young daughter had a bit of a spark again, as she spent much of her time playing with her cat. It was a bit strange to see Taylor adapt to the cat more than the cat to her, but Danny didn't mind her taking naps all the time if she smiled again. Besides, even her grades were starting to pick up again, inconsistent though they were.

All seemed well.

Even Danny himself had begun to smile again, when he came home and found Taylor curled up in the sofa alongside her newest friend, who most often rested on top of Taylor herself. Sure, at first it'd been a bit of a bother to train the kitty to use its sanitary kitty litter, and it'd been a bit of a pain to have to constantly be cleaning shed hair and whenever it ate something that didn't agree with its stomach.

But Danny had noticed that Taylor had flourished under the added responsibility, even getting into the rhythm of doing the house chores while she was at it.

Within months, new life had been poured into his daughter, and he could frequently see her working on her homework on a spotless house while her pet slept curled up on her lap.

Even Danny himself had once been a victim to the adorable cuteness that was a kitten sleeping on his lap while he sat on the couch. He'd jokingly said he'd surrendered and that being a couch for a cat would be the rest of his life, until his daughter had called the little fiend and it went running to bed with her.

It had been a good few months, though Danny wished Taylor hadn't named the little cat Rose, of all things.

It was a tomcat, the name didn't fit at all...

* * *

When it came down to it, and they were presented with two choices, it shouldn't be that surprising that Sophia, Emma and Madison went for the easier choice.

Sure, the locker prank sounded like the stuff of legends... but it was also incredibly disgusting, and they would have to set it up. The more people who knew and could point fingers at them in case something went horribly wrong, the worse the fallout would be on them. So they decided instead for plan B, which was quicker, shorter and, in Sophia's mind, more exemplary of Hebert's role in the world.

Cellphone cameras were ready. The plan had been set up, and only the punchline remained for delivery.

Ah, there she was!

Giddy with excitement, the hidden teenagers observed as Taylor input the combination for her locker and opened it.

* * *

Emily Piggot looked upon the pictures.

Emma Barnes and Madison Clemens had been pretty girls. The Barnes girl had even been a teen model. Distaste filled the Director's mouth as part of the file stated that there was a pending investigation regarding some of the less savory modeling jobs she had taken. Barnes, Barnes, Barnes... what a thorn on her side, that man would be.

Of course, this only made him even worse. She longed for the days in which she could push the political side of things to some pencil pushing pansy somewhere, foist Barnes off on them...

He was now leading a campaign against the PRT, for taking so long to respond to a violent lunatic of a parahuman in Winslow High. The public didn't really seem to care that the girl had brought the beating that disfigured her on herself.

It did not take long once an investigation began to learn exactly why and how Sophia Hess, also known as the ward Shadow Stalker, was one of the students mauled by the Beast of Winslow. Sophia was not as clever as she thought she was. For some reason she thought that deleting the messages on her phone was something she could actually do, or that she had any right to privacy despite being on probation. Nobody accused her of being technologically adept.

Not too surprising, Armsmaster was easily able to download the stored messages that she had thought she deleted. It was startling to discover just how twisted the girl was, considering she appeared to have been bullying this one girl who did absolutely nothing to fight back for nearly two years. Even to the point that others would've backed off in fear of a trigger.

Hardly her only victim, mind you - just the only one that wound up being relevant in the future.

Sophia had no excuse, she was outright a parahuman herself, she should know that a sufficiently traumatic experience could result in the fate that befell her.

If she were to be truly honest, what rankled Piggot more than anything else was the stupidity of everyone involved, including herself, because somehow they'd all deluded themselves into thinking that the psychotic and unstable vigilante that had crucified people before would not need constant supervision. They'd deluded themselves into thinking that Sophia Hess would not do something this monumentally stupid.

Now, though, there simply was no realistic good move from the Protectorate.

The Beast of Winslow was at large. Everyone knew her identity as Taylor Hebert. Her father had been moved into protective custody, and not a moment too soon - the PRT detail that was watching her home to see if she showed up had gotten a glimpse of what she was truly capable of. Their van had been shredded, cut to ribbons. She had gone right through the Containment Foam. An unbound aggregate of anger, rage, hatred and unstoppable power, that's how they'd described her.

That had stopped any attempts at vandalizing the Hebert household cold - it'd only taken a strategic 'leak' of what kind of Parahuman they were dealing with for people to suddenly decide that pissing her off was an extraordinarily poor idea, and it was easy for the PRT to handle the humans too stupid to stay away from the former lair of the beast.

Fortunately, no serious injuries had resulted, and certainly no fatalities, even if she'd cost the Protectorate hundreds of thousands of dollars in equipment. In return, they had video, they had a rough estimation of her abilities, and they had fur samples.

Emily walked out of her office not long after she had finished settling her most urgent paperwork, stamping the necessary papers and signing her signature where she should. She handed the papers to a young man who ran off to deliver them where they ought to be, and set herself en route to the holding cells at the bottom floor of the PHQ.

The girl hadn't stopped there. It hadn't taken long for Brockton Bay's resident Alexandria Package to stick her foot where it didn't belong and mess up everything for everyone. The girl was rightfully arrogant, as her power was amongst the most potent in the bay, and she was frequently thought of as one of the most dangerous parahumans in a fight, a direct combination of strength and reckless stupidity that prevented her from holding back.

The Director of the PRT in Brockton Bay was far from the only one whose first reaction to hearing about the confrontation had been "Goddammit, Glory Girl".

It wouldn't have even been so bad if Glory Girl hadn't essentially attacked first without even stopping to ask questions. For all her stupidity the girl had a strong moral fiber and believed in taking justice into her own hands, paying eye for an eye, so to speak. Plus, she had known the Barnes girl personally, and though not friends, still had some degree of familiarity.

Glory Girl had quickly found out that being able to fly doesn't make much of a difference when you're just too slow to catch your enemy. And her anger had only resulted in dumber and dumber things happening, until the point where Victoria Dallon was currently being rightfully blamed for sixteen injuries, three of which would've resulted in lifelong paralysis and one of which would've resulted in death, if it weren't for the presence of her sister.

She hadn't managed to lay a single hand on the Beast, who'd gotten away cleanly. Well, as 'cleanly' as carving paths through cars and on the sides of buildings could be. On the other hand, Glory Girl had given them confirmation that the Beast of Winslow could run alongside walls by clinging to them with her claws.

That was a good thing.

Not so good was Glory Girl pissing off Hebert and setting her against the heroes even more. Even promising that New Wave would hunt her down.

Fortunately, New Wave chose not to pursue this threat on the basis that Brandish was apocalyptically angry at her daughter and would not give her the pleasure of her team hunting down the parahuman who'd humiliated her in public.

The next to attempt to stop the Beast was the Empire 88. They did attempt to recruit her. For some reason Hookwolf really, REALLY wanted her in the team.

To the point that he went to do the recruitment personally. And he intended to recruit her by proving his superiority to her. If Emily were being one hundred percent frank, she needed to thank Hookwolf. Without his help, they probably wouldn't have captured her. After all, if he hadn't beaten the everloving tar out of her, she would've likely continued to rampage, and Emily was leery of sending squishy humans into the path of someone who could punch through concrete and shred metal with her fingernails.

Unfortunately for him, Hookwolf had taken extensive damage. Rumor on the street was that he was pretty angry at being interrupted in his recruitment attempt by Armsmaster and Miss Militia.

The heroes had captured Hookwolf and the Beast, but it hadn't taken long for the Empire capes to recover Hookwolf and escape the scene. As far as anyone knew, Hookwolf hadn't been seen since, most said that he had taken so much damage that he couldn't even transform back into his regular human form without putting his life at risk.

By the time they stopped fighting the Empire, Miss Militia and Armsmaster could only express shock that Beast was still trying to run away on two broken legs and looking like someone had just run her through a cheese grater.

Her upper left arm had been sheared to the bone, and she was still moving, dragging herself along the ground, trying to get away from the heroes.

Fortunately, a single dart knocked her out.

When asked for a quick diagnosis, Panacea remarked that most bones in her body were broken and that the way her nervous system was flaring out suggested that she was in such agony that she likely hadn't even noticed her leg bones were more of a puzzle than solid supports.

She also confirmed that the girl had a healing factor that was fixing her quite rapidly, confirming she'd be up and about in about six hours at the least, nine at the most. Also remarking that anything Panacea herself did that slowed that down would likely be reversed quite quickly, as Beast was basically fighting her power every step of the way. Not quite like a Regenerator normally did - usually she could get regeneration to cooperate with her power. More like it just did not want her meddling at all.

Panacea also had to have a few facts explained to her - mostly about how her initially antagonistic disposition regarding Hebert was not appreciated in the least, and that her sister's own actions brought all her problems upon herself. Fortunately, it was relatively easy to browbeat Panacea into accepting reality - girl might have an extremely powerful ability and an extraordinarily acidic disposition, but she wasn't completely dumb and could understand facts when explained.

After she finished reminding herself of every detail of the situation, just in case, Emily's eyes opened, and she realized she was looking down upon the Beast of Winslow. She mentally chuckled to herself, thinking that it was a bit strange that she still remembered the path to the holding cells this perfectly.

Her eyes set upon the beast.

All five and a half feet of it.

Amusing how small she seemed when she wasn't a whirlwind of claws and teeth. Fur seemed to cover the... important areas, for the sake of modesty Emily supposed. It was thick and dark purple in color, almost black. There were veins of a shiny, much lighter, purple running through her fur, and if one strained their eye, those veins were visible on the places of her body where the skin was thinner, such as her newly regenerated muscles.

The bars of her cell were a special alloy made to contain Lung. A bit of an overkill, but he was the only parahuman who could cut through steel in Brockton Bay. Every wall was similar, though less reinforced than the bars.

"Taylor Hebert, can you understand me?" Piggot asked.

Growling, the girl turned towards her. There was a solid minute of silence, whereupon the girl did naught but glare, until she finally gave a grudging nod.

"Good. We have investigated your situation," Piggot said. "I am here to inform you that you are accused of twelve counts of battery with a parahuman power, six counts of assault with a parahuman power, one hundred and forty eight counts of vandalism with a parahuman power and resisting arrest. Amongst other, less important charges."

Taylor growled again, her fingernails digging furrows on the concrete of the cell floor. Below was another layer of reinforced Tinker-made anti-Lung alloy.

"However," Piggot said, "video of your trigger event has been made public. It is not exactly common information, but it is known amongst those who work with the law that Trigger Events are accompanied by psychotic breaks, and from parahumans with powers such as yours, frequently they are accompanied by rampages."

Taylor grunted in response. "S-So what?" she said, her voice hoarse, almost as if she had to force the words out.

"What this means, Miss Hebert, is that cases such as yours are treated with a bit more... leniency than the norm. While there is no changing the past, what's done is done, what you can do is change your future. As it stands right now, I guarantee you that you will be spending the rest of your teenage years in a juvenile detention center, and when you are an adult, you will be moved to prison for a number of years."

Taylor's entire body tightened. "D-D-Dad-" she began. "W-Where's m-my-"

"He is safe. He has been placed in protective custody-"

Taylor's hands smashed the concrete, spreading a spiderweb of cracks as it cratered under her fists. A shock of electricity ran through the bars, as if in warning.

"Calm down," Piggot said, "and let me finish!" she ordered. Piggot still had it, her voice thundered into the Cell, clearly knocking the wind out of the rampaging beast's sails. When it seemed to recover, and get ready to pounce, Piggot went for the killing blow, "SIT THE FUCK DOWN!"

Not expecting that, the beast seemed cowed, sitting in an almost catlike fashion on the floor.

Smiling to herself, Piggot cleared her throat. "We took your father into protective custody fearing reprisals from the mob that the parents of the girls you mauled formed. It was purely for his own protection."

The girl seemed satisfied with that. "W-What ab-b-bout m-me?"

"For the time being, you will cool your heels down here," Piggot stated, simply. "I will be back to talk to you once I have new information that is relevant."

The girl nodded, and Piggot realized that she too was nodding, before stopping herself.

As she turned to leave, Piggot saw the girl collapse into a boneless heap out of the corner of her eye. Reflexes almost forgotten had her ready to bolt at a moment's notice, but when she saw there was no danger, she relaxed and winced, feeling the protest of her knees.

She called for the guards and medical personnel. The guards entered first, armed with extremely potent stun guns, however there was no fear, the girl really was unconscious.

A quick exploration of her cell revealed the three plates of food that she had been served the past day, she hadn't touched a single one of them.

Considering her rampage had lasted for three days and she hadn't stopped to sleep or eat, as far as anyone could tell, it wasn't entirely shocking that her endurance finally ran out.

It was actually extremely impressive that she had lasted that long, Emily mused to herself, as she headed to her office again.

* * *

"Why are you doing it yourself?" Armsmaster asked, as he and the Director walked into the holding cell area. It'd been two days since the girl'd last had human contact that was meaningful in any way. She'd likely be more amenable to hear them now. Especially since it seemed like she was eating again.

Piggot continued walking, but spared him a glance. "I left Hess to Renick, look how that turned out," Piggot nearly spat out.

Armsmaster said nothing. Nobody had taken the screw up quite as hard as Renick had, as the case worker who had been assigned to Hess was his very own niece. Needless to say, it reflected extremely poorly on the Deputy Director's career that this had happened, and there were people calling for his removal very high up.

Competent though he might be with day to day administration, a fuck up that large really put his continued employment in jeopardy. Especially as public opinion began to swing about towards Hebert's side, which meant there were more people who feared that the PRT's involvement in the case would become public soon enough.

Well, saying 'public opinion was swinging to the other side' was a bit of a misnomer. The internet was calling for the three girls' heads on pikes, and general consensus was that the Beast of Winslow was a misunderstood girl who loved her cat.

The worst part was that the usual stupid theory in this case happened to be correct - the Beast was a misunderstood girl who really loved her cat and the 'innocent girls' she mauled were in fact psychotic monsters that murdered a kitten for no other reason than because it'd give them a laugh.

Emma Barnes' psychological profile, in particular, was pretty damning to Alan Barnes' cause, which continued to lose steam the more that internet trolls and hackers began to dig into the situation and into the Winslow School records in particular.

As it turns out, you do not fuck with cats on the internet. Or dogs. Pets in general really.

Soon enough, they both arrived to Hebert's holding cell.

There were scratch marks on nearly every surface, and her bed had been turned into more of a nest than anything else, which didn't really matter since they were practically decoration - the girl slept very sparingly.

This wasn't doing her any good, Piggot mused, as she saw the fact that she trembled every once in a while, and looked just about ready to fall dead.

Meaningless pleasantries were exchanged, or rather, Piggot said hi and introduced herself and Armsmaster, while the girl grunted in return.

"I will keep this short, miss Hebert. Simply put, your criminal acts cannot be erased. However, your circumstances are such that it's evident you were not in your right mind. For this reason, I have a very simple offer in mind for you."

* * *

Aegis knew he had a bomb in his hands.

Taylor Hebert, also known as Lioness, was now on his Wards team.

The problem was that while he had been briefed on the situation, and knew exactly why and how things had happened the way they had, his team did not. And because of sheer bad luck, he had not had time to explain to them what was going to happen. All that they knew was that the Beast of Winslow had disfigured their teammate.

And now they walked in and found her, sitting on their couch, being talked at by Aegis. "Talked to" would imply she was listening.

Lioness was an apt name, it was like trying to talk to a cat. They understand, they just don't give a fuck.

They all seemed... terrified. It was not an undue reaction - the girl was very strong and fast, and it was likely her claws could cut them to ribbons very easily, just as easily as she had ripped apart Hookwolf while he did the same to her. Kid Win even drew one of his pistols.

Fortunately, training had covered this kind of situation, and Battery had given him a few pointers that had come from Assault - namely, at this point in the game, Taylor is very frightened and lonely, and it's your job to make her understand that you're on her side.

That was a tip that Carlos had taken to heart, as he had actually somewhat seen the truth behind the monstrosity that had mauled three 'innocents', that she was in truth just a terrified and anguished little girl mourning the loss of her beloved pet to a psychopath.

This was why he stood, arms open and chest puffed out, in front of Taylor as Kid Win took aim. Chris' shock was enough that he didn't fire, and the others soon took a breather and decided they needed to first understand what was going on, then make conclusions about it.

That was fortunate. Apparently a scheduling error resulted in them thinking there was a reunion at that time, instead of later when Taylor would be sleeping in her quarters within the HQ. However, Taylor was still completely exhausted, and retired to her quarters for the night after tense introductions.

The explanation would take roughly half an hour.

It was not exactly surprising to see Dennis cling to the hope that maybe the rumors were untrue, but in the end, his crush on Sophia, or rather his attraction to Sophia's body, didn't last through the video of her taunting a girl over her dead pet.

Everyone else was appropriately furious about Sophia's actions, and it seemed to go quite a ways into smoothing out the initial difficulties Aegis had in convincing his team that having a powerhouse that can actually throw down with the powerful brutes of the city, instead of just being a meatshield like him, was a very good thing.

* * *

All good things must come to an end.

Taylor had been a ward for a month before the dots started to line up. In a way, she figured, she had been trying to not see it. She had been actively trying to believe that the people she'd looked up to as a child could not be horrible human beings.

It only took until a televised interview of Shadow Stalker, currently stationed in Los Angeles, for Taylor to finally start to notice a few inconsistencies. For starters, the PRT had always been evasive regarding the punishment that the bitches three had faced for their actions. Eventually rumors started circulating of a panicky Alan Barnes desperately looking for a lawyer that would take the case after he started facing charges for inciting civil unrest and provoking disorder - or so Taylor understood it - and the Clemens family was now all facing prosecution after attempting to flee the city to avoid criminal charges.

However, Sophia Hess?

Nary a peep had been heard of her since the incident.

Taylor had chosen, deliberately, to ignore this information... until she noticed that Shadow Stalker had been transferred to Los Angeles, the event brought to mind by the announcing of her apprenticeship under Alexandria herself. It'd happened... exactly as Taylor was recruited into the Wards, as far as she could tell.

Then there were little hints and clues. The fact that the Wards would sometimes flinch or hesitate when it came to the topic of Sophia Hess, awkward pauses when mentioning Shadow Stalker... Everything came down to the point where Taylor simply couldn't ignore it anymore, and stormed her way to the Director's office.

The woman had been busy at the time, speaking with Armsmaster and Miss Militia about something or other. It didn't really matter. Taylor had to ask and she needed an answer.

"What... Exactly... happened to Sophia Hess?" Taylor asked.

Dozens of reprimands came from everyone in the room. Taylor didn't care.

"She didn't go to Juvie, did she."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Taylor ignored the answers, for they were all the same evasive bull she had been expecting. Talking about the case, talking about how justice was slow, talking about justice eventually coming through.

"Shadow Stalker... She was transferred out just as this whole mess was getting wrapped up," Taylor mused, loudly.

There was no point in delaying anymore.

"Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker," Taylor growled.

They spoke. She didn't hear. Her clothes burned off in a haze of dark smoke and purple flame, leaving only the almost underwear-like fur that covered her body. Her tail and ears twitched, and she grabbed onto the electrically charged cables of the stun gun that Miss Milita had just fired on her. She almost felt a tingle, before yanking the woman forward and then punching her in the face, hard enough to send her flying into a wall. She cracked the plaster on it, leaving a small crater and giving out a loud gasp of pain when she struck the reinforced wall behind it.

Armsmaster swung his fist.

He moved so very slow, and it was easy to just grab onto his wrist, pull him forward and then hurl him into the wall as well.

The foam sprinklers in the ceiling activated. With a mighty roar reminiscent of a lion, Taylor charged through the door, rending it apart with ease, ignoring the clumps of containment foam forming all over her body and expanding. She came upon the closest window and leaped out of it.

Some saw a streak of dark smoke and purple flame, but one very unlucky man saw a half naked lion girl land on the hood of his car, completely wrecking the thing, and then shoot off like a bullet, almost tipping it over from the backlash.

* * *

Coil was many things.

An opportunist was one of them. And with how truly and completely the Protectorate had botched the recruitment of the newest open cape in Brockton Bay, he had a prime opportunity to take advantage of.

Assuring the girl that her father was safe had been easy. Even if he didn't kidnap the man to put him in a 'safe' environment, relatively speaking, the Protectorate and PRT wouldn't do anything to the man simply because he was leverage. So long as Taylor didn't become a threat that caused them to drop their rules of engagement, her father would be safe in their care, and witness protection would ensure that none of Taylor's actions would ever come back to bite him.

Getting her to actually start performing her role as his agent had been a bit more difficult. She had refused outright to go out to intimidate people, even if she could, but that was fine - he had other agents for that, and his Mercenaries, being normal humans, would not result in PRT and Protectorate response. The Police simply was not equipped nor trained to handle his own troops.

On the other hand, protection? Protection she would do, even if she hated who or what she was protecting. Coil had even been magnanimous and allowed her to break the hand of the man who had tried to grope her. Discipline lapses during training were fatal in battle, and even the man's captain understood it. He did limit her to non-permanent damage, but she understood the reasoning why.

Transport was also within her power. She could move very fast. She wasn't very stealthy when she moved fast, but it didn't really matter. If she built a profile for being seen zipping around the rooftops like a lunatic, then she would not be looked at twice when she was doing courier runs across the city, delivering packages for him.

However, she was certainly a very valuable asset simply because of the muscle that she brought to the table, and to that end, he attached her to the Undersiders for when their missions would require said Muscle. It was much more likely for them to succeed in stealing from Lung, if Lung was distracted by a fight with Lioness.

Things were good.

Coil looked upon his files.

Investigating into the rumors he'd heard about the Mayor's niece had indeed paid off, in a very big way. Now he just had to confirm it for certain, which would be easy with his power, and then find an opportunity to snatch the girl if her power turned out to be what he believed it to be.

Smiling, Coil drew up his plans...

* * *

Taylor is a cat. If you hadn't guessed from the name, it's a very specific cat, namely, Atalanta Alter.

If I'd continued it, the story would basically go with various groups picking her up at one point or another and her breaking ties with them after they do something that goes against her moral code (which she's beginning to enforce with ever more increasing insanity and zeal).

Eventually she is at odds with everyone, basically, and then when a villain joint operation is considered to take her out since she's basically wrecking everyone's shit and has basically betrayed everyone by that point for one reason or another... Leviathan happens.

Leviathan kills a whole bunch of people. Only guarantees I've thought of is: Taylor survives, Vista survives, Kid Win survives (though he also loses his legs and arms and winds up with a specialty in plug and play prosthetics), Danny dies and at least 50% of the population of Brockton Bay dies, everyone else is up for grabs as I haven't really thought of roles for everyone - mostly the surviving villains would wind up either just continuing their business offscreen, profiting off of the state of BB, or killed later.

Anyway post Leviathan the Teeth try to move back in. It goes poorly for everyone involved, some more people die, the Butcher gets locked in a time loop bomb by Bakuda.

Somehow Vista winds up fighting to defend Taylor's little fiefdom and after she sustains injuries doing so she stays there and basically gets to see Taylor act like a big sister rather than the Beast that everyone keeps saying she is. Consistently trying to prove that Taylor isn't the evil monster everyone makes her out to be winds up resulting in her getting bitter towards the Protectorate and turning towards helping the one person who's trying to make things better for a bunch of children that can't take care of themselves.

She also finds out that Taylor is getting financed by Dinah selling her predictions to the Protectorate and Tattletale hiring Taylor for odd jobs.

Shenanigans happen and the Slaughterhouse drops in. Alexandria is sent as reinforcements. Jack gets away. He's the only one that gets away. Taylor shreds Mannequin but gets shitstomped by Crawler. She loses half her body to the bomb that kills Crawler (well it doesn't kill him it just compresses him into a tiny ball and he's then locked in a box and thrown into the ocean).

The Siberian is killed by accident when Alexandria destroys the van Manton is in.

Taylor succesfully kidnaps Bonesaw and she gets deprogrammed by the Protectorate.

Since Echidna doesn't happen, neither does the reveal of Cauldron to the world.

Taylor pretty much winds up creating a 'Children's Kingdom' of sorts like the one in the Riyomanga.

At the end Jack accidentally saves the world when he convinces Zion to kill himself for shits and giggles, and is rewarded by having his skull pulped by Eidolon.


	38. Kill Them With Love

**Kill them with love**

* * *

Summary: Sometimes puberty hits you like a truck. In Taylor's case, it hit her like the Yukatan impact.

* * *

Two months ago, I literally could not imagine ever holding a civil conversation with her.

Today we're walking out of the movie theater after watching an extraordinarily cheesy but extremely welcome action movie. Sophia was a fan of well muscled action heroes, and I honestly prefer the leaner type. But luckily for us, this one had a duo of a sophisticated, Bond-like spy as well as his Schwarzeneggeresque army man counterpart.

I'm going to be the first to admit it.

I am very weak.

I guess some part of me was still having fantasies of my best friend coming back to her senses, apologizing and running back in my arms. And... well, that's really not how it happened.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. See, it all began one wednesday afternoon...

* * *

Taylor hated hitting the showers after Gym.

That would be the time at which the others would make fun of her thoroughly unfeminine body, that seemingly hadn't hit puberty yet.

Which would explain why she waited until everyone else was gone to use the showers herself. It worked. Besides, P.E. was the sole class that she was doing well in, because while she did have it with Emma and Sophia, neither actually bothered her during those classes, both being busy with exercise to keep their shapes intact.

The end result was a new favorite class as well as losing that paunch she had been developing that past year.

While she was still thoroughly unfeminine, at least she was now more 'slim' than 'skinny'.

That afternoon, however, as she entered the showers, she was met with something that changed her life, perhaps for the better...

For Taylor, right then and there, discovered one thing that both horrified and surprised her.

As Emma Barnes and Sophia Hess showered, Taylor watched in enraptured attention.

Only one thought crossed her mind.

 _Damn, they're super hot!_

* * *

And so it began.

Taylor was normally a very calm, collected and tightly controlled girl.

However, she was also experiencing hormonal imbalances that honestly would've perplexed medical experts. This affected her behavior greatly, and she hadn't been able to take the images of the soaped up bodies of her former best friend and said former best friend's new best friend off of her mind.

So when she noticed Emma was wearing a relatively short skirt, Taylor's brain short circuited and while Emma was busy mounting a cavalcade of insults that Taylor couldn't hear, she reached and flipped Emma's skirt.

Emma screeched something, and Taylor got a detention.

But as she served it, she grinned perversely and giggled to herself. Emma's blushing face was pretty cute too.

* * *

Sophia wore very tight, almost skin-tight in fact, running shorts. Taylor was running behind her, and her eyes were firmly locked on Sophia's backside as her powerful legs with those well toned thighs brought her forward. For a moment, Taylor wondered how it would feel to hug Sophia's thighs.

Winslow's track star, however, was starting to feel awkward and decided that if Hebert was gonna try to pretend she could keep up, she'd make the girl sweat for it.

Taylor never actually noticed that Sophia kept increasing the pace, as her mind was completely and solely focused on her butt swinging back and forth, unerringly, unstoppingly. Sophia's form was impeccable, but it didn't really register to Taylor. No, the only thing that mattered was that her shorts could scarcely contain the glory that was that heart shaped pillow of an ass.

Unknown to both, the coach's jaw was hanging loose as the disgraced former Olympian watched two young girls display determination and stamina the likes of which adult athletes could only dream of.

* * *

Taylor looked at where Emma was leaning over the desk, putting the last few finishing touches on the big sign that she was going to hang from the wall.

She giggled as she saw that Emma's top few buttons were undone, and her scarlet red bra was easily visible. Not a single blemish on the uncovered parts of her breasts. Really, that kind of airbrushed perfection should be left for magazine covers, Taylor mused.

Then again, the redhead was indeed a teen model, and Taylor was sure she'd heard Emma bragging once or twice about modeling swimsuits as well. Hm. Those might be worth seeking out, if only for reference. The real thing was much better to look at anyway, as she used a marker to fill in a last minute warning against certain unacceptable behaviors.

Her breasts swayed slightly, and Taylor let herself smile. Any day was a good day, if you could find the bright side.

* * *

Sophia's shirt clung to her skin, soaked wet with sweat. Apparently nobody had told her not to wear a black bra with a white shirt, because it was very easily visible.

Not that Taylor was complaining. In fact, earlier that day when they were doing warmups, Taylor had gotten a very nice peek at the underwear Sophia wore under her shorts, and it was indeed, matching the top, in both style and color. Some would think the sporty style was unattractive, but for Taylor, she focused more on how well it suited Sophia, how much it matched her image as someone who'd prefer practicality over form.

She was looking at her empty water bottle, and Taylor gave her a big smile as she approached, offering the black girl her own spare.

It was the least she could do after Sophia had provided her such a show as doing stretches in tight, soaking wet clothes, after all...

* * *

The first time Taylor kissed Emma, they were both ten and had declared it was practice and didn't count. The second, third and up to the tenth time, they claimed the same.

But the eleventh time, Taylor had been standing in the hallway while Emma was doing a heatless tirade upon her fashion sense, when Taylor's eyes focused on the painted pink of Emma's lips. Taylor did not know much about fashion, and didn't really know if it was good with her complexion or whatnot, what she knew was that most of the girls were using similar lip gloss.

Of course, most of them didn't have Emma's nearly perfectly symmetrical face, or her excellently shaped cheekbones, or soft, pillowy lips.

Emma squeaked when Taylor grabbed her chin with two fingers and moved in to kiss her. She'd always been the better kisser of the two, Emma often being reduced to a swooning, blushing mess when they were done with 'practice'.

This was no different, as Emma's brain kicked the bucket and accepted the kiss, swinging her arms over Taylor's shoulder, the dark haired girl stepping into Emma's personal space to embrace her and deepen the kiss.

Pulling back, Taylor gave her former best friend a big smile. "You taste great, Emma!"

Emma gave her a weak, goofy smile as she swooned.

* * *

Sophia handed Taylor a water bottle.

"It's just returning a favor, don't look too much into it," Sophia said. "I'm not, you know..."

Taylor nodded and caught the offering. However, she sat down next to Sophia. They were winding down after going for a morning run, something that Taylor had joined Sophia in doing over the past week. "If you say so," she said.

"I'm really not, okay. I like boys!" she said. "Big, muscular and handsome boys!"

"Yeah, I like boys too. I still think you're pretty attractive, and so's Emma," Taylor said.

"But... that's, you know," Sophia waved her hand.

Taylor smiled. "Are you willing to check?"

Sophia blinked. "The hell are you on?" she asked.

"Just make out with me for a bit. If you're as straight as you say you are, it shouldn't mean anything, right? It's just practice, it doesn't count."

Sophia seemed pensive. It really didn't mean anything, after all. Nobody would see it. It was just her proving a point. After all, Hebert had proven she could keep a secret... Might as well shut her up on this one, or else she never would.

"Okay, fine, if it'll get you to stop asking," Sophia said, rolling her eyes.

Taylor did a silly fist pump, that had Sophia rolling her eyes again, and then straddled Sophia.

She pushed Sophia down into the grass, startling her quite a bit, and then used her left hand to hold her body up while using the right hand to properly guide Sophia's head.

Taylor had a lot of practice. Emma had grown quite addicted to her daily makeout sessions whenever they could spare the time.

Sophia might have thought herself a predator, might've thought she was a mighty hunter. But right now, she felt more like a mouse standing in front of a lioness, ready to pounce.

And pounce the lioness did. Sophia had felt Taylor's tongue invade places that she'd never even thought existed within her mouth, and she had discovered that there was such a thing as tongue wrestling, and Taylor was a master at it.

Not even a couple of seconds in, Sophia was a softly mewling mess of a person, almost melted into a puddle, while Taylor continued to engage in what could only be described as hilariously excessive mouth rape.

Taylor let the intensity fade, before pulling back for a moment to let Sophia close her mouth and then landing a finishing peck on her lips.

"Still sure you don't like girls at least a little bit?" Taylor asked, smiling widely.

"... I dunno about liking girls but I liked _that_ ," Sophia said, airily. "May I have another?"

"Good girl," Taylor said, patting her head before diving down once more.

* * *

One of Taylor's hands was on Sophia's butt.

The other was on Emma's chest.

Emma's knees were wobbly. Sophia was blushing so hard it was visible on her dark skin.

"We're NEVER, EVER, letting her drink spiked punch again!" Sophia said, growling angrily.

"Also we keep her far, far away from Madison," Emma agreed.

The little chit was still sprawled on the couch, looking like she'd just been electrocuted in all the right ways.

Sophia almost felt her heart clench. Who'd have thought she'd feel... jealous, of all things, when she saw Hebert make out with another girl? It was hard enough to accept Hebert was hot for Emma, which, when Sophia was drunk enough to be honest, she admitted she also thought Emma was pretty hot, but Madison?

Seriously? The underdeveloped hanger-on that followed Emma like a lost puppy? Taylor apparently thought she was cute enough, it seemed, because it'd only taken a couple of glasses of punch spiked with vodka to get Taylor to respond to a taunt from Madison with extreme prejudice.

"Hm... so nice and firm, so big and soft," Taylor mumbled, "y'girls are the best," she said, nodding to herself.

Sophia would claim to the day she died that she didn't feel just a little swell of pride at that.

* * *

"Well, if it ain't the Shadow Tamer herself," Clockblocker said.

Meeting Sophia's teammates for the first time was... a bit weird.

Even weirder was the fact that Taylor had actually been the one to convince Sophia to invite them to her birthday celebration. It's not like she had all that many friends, so they had to improvise. Taylor did not want the cake she made to go to waste, and so had forced Sophia to cough up the phone numbers of her Ward teammates.

Unfortunately, because of secret identities that Taylor wasn't privy to, they had been forced to come in costume. It was too good of a team bonding exercise for them to miss, as Sophia had parroted from Armsmaster, doing a really silly robot voice.

"Huh?" Taylor seemed confused. "I'm the what now?"

"Since she started dating you, she's been way more approachable, calm and dare I say, friendly!" the hero said, extending his hand. "On behalf of the team, I can't thank you enough!"

She took his hand and smiled.

When she came back to, three minutes had passed, and Clockblocker was still being scolded.

"I'm really sorry about that," a boy in a domino mask that introduced himself as Gallant explained. "Though I was pretty shocked to see Sophia explode on him like that, she's not really the kind to, y'know..."

He explained how Sophia had nearly gone into a raging fit the moment she realized Taylor had been frozen in place, berating Clockblocker quite severely. Taylor was extremely sad that she had missed her stunned expression when she found her team agreeing with her on something for once.

Fortunately, Emma took a picture.

Stunned Silly Sophia was incredibly adorable.

The Wards introduced themselves, one by one, and they all had great fun. It was quite strange that, for once, nothing was going horribly wrong in Brockton Bay, so they relished the chance for a break.

* * *

Aaand that's about it.

If I'd had more time, more ideas, more willpower, I might have written a longer and more detailed story rather than just these few snippets.

The idea is pretty simple - you know how teenaged boys are willing to ignore and forgive a great many misdeeds from the girls that get their engines running? Well, this is similar. Taylor kinda stops paying attention to the taunts and insults and stuff because she is entirely too focused on basically discovering girls can be attractive too.

She winds up impressing Sophia through physical achievements (like keeping up with her on the track just from wanting to look at Sophia's ass, or frequently partnering up with her and keeping up with her exercises, again, just to look at Sophia closer) and Emma by being an unflappable rock that doesn't let anyone or anything get to her... while still thinking Emma's god's gift to mankind, or at least her body is.

Incidentally, had I gone on, I eventually would've had Greg Veder trigger with a Master power that lets him control people's bodies but not their minds or mouths (unless he's actively forcing them to say something), as the bullying campaign on him gets worse and his attempts at pulling a Taylor don't go anywhere near as well for him as they do for her (think a sort of Frank Grimes to Homer Simpson situation, with a similar breakdown).

And yes, I know I'm gonna get shouted at for 'bashing' Greg, but that's not my intention, my intention is to portray him as basically the victim of a mad world that is in all fairness, horribly unfair.

Anyway, Greg would attempt to pull a NTR on Taylor, and the end result is Taylor triggering with a power that functions much like the Pactio system from Mahou Sensei Negima (the Manga, not the shitty version from the anime). Taylor's power grants effective immunity to Master powers on the Capes that she has contracted with, and the end result is an ambush set up using Glory Girl, who 'Pactio's with Taylor for immunity and then succesfully shrugs off anything Sophia could possibly throw at her as well as Greg's other minions (he only keeps girls as minions because Greg).

Also yes, this does result in the formation of a pseudo Super Hero team of a sort, since Taylor can give powers to normals. They're more like a 'group that often works together' than a real team because Vicky has obligations to New Wave, Sophia can't quit the Wards even though she really wants to, Emma isn't really a Cape and Taylor can't fight for shit on her own.

(The Warrior is killed offscreen by Cauldron, somehow, don't ask)


	39. A Mile in Your Shoes

**A Mile in Your Shoes**

* * *

Summary: With great power come great drawbacks.

* * *

Pity.

Guilt.

Pain.

Anger.

Disgust filled her, her stomach did flips and for an instant, she felt like she was floating, before it all came crashing down. She curled up on her bed, covering her head with a pillow and crying, wishing, hoping, that anything would just make it stop, that they would all just shut up and mind their own business. For a brief moment she wished that they would all just DIE-

She blinked and sighed.

The worst episodes were the shortest. Discomfort as the murmurs bothered her for an hour or two was the most common state she found herself in.

Pity in large amounts distracted her from wallowing in her own misery. A nurse. It really was surprising how much every movement the woman made was practiced. An older woman, had been a nurse for decades, had worked on worse cases than hers.

No amount of practice could account for her heel giving out as she accidentally caught it on an upraised tile. Her shoes were sensible but very old and worn, and the slightly harder heel was glued onto the sole. It tore off with surprising ease. The nurse would fall, and based on her angle, hit her head with the bedframe. Crack her head open. She would be dead in minutes, long before anyone could save her.

Feeling like someone was punching her from within, Taylor unleashed the weight of the presence she had been feeling, and with a burst of strength that left her feeling horribly drained, she forced the tile into place.

It left her feeling nauseous, but the nurse stepped firmly and without issue. She wouldn't even know anything happened. The woman offered Taylor a kind, worn smile. "How are you doing, honey? Not too bored, I hope!"

Taylor returned her smile. Even if she felt like absolute shit right now... it was worth it.

* * *

Pity. Anger. Despair.

"What's wrong, Taylor?"

Pity. Anger. Despair.

"Are you gonna run back to mommy? Oh!"

Pity. Anger. Despair. Mirth. Amusement. Joy. Defeat.

"Just like when you cried yourself to sleep for a week when your mommy died!"

Anger. Anger. Anger. Anger. Despair. Defeat.

"Aren't you gonna say anything, Tay-Tay? Cat got your tongue? Oh, silly me, not even a street cat would-"

"I'm glad you miss her too Emma."

Shock. Anger.

"She'd be really disappointed."

Shock. Anger. Fury.

"Why you little-"

Taylor walked away. She was surprised to find nobody even tried to stop her. Then again, she mused as her mind was assaulted with words, feelings, images, sounds - they never would have.

After all, the primary thing she felt... beyond everything else...

Fear.

* * *

"There's something different about you."

Taylor closed the door to her locker. Hess was leaning against the wall. Taylor showered after everyone else, unwilling to deal with their taunts before, unwilling to deal with bicurious teenagers and their overcharged hormonal imbalances now. Sophia's mind was jumbled, dark, deep... much swirled in her. She spoke of fear, she spoke of hatred, she spoke of anger. She spoke of pride and of despair.

Loneliness.

Sophia growled and attacked her, wielding crossbows, Sophia tearfully apologized, Sophia died pushing a familiar redhead away from a shining column of light, Sophia shoved a broadhead bolt through the back of a mousy looking woman's head-

Taylor shook her head.

"Right there... You saw something, didn't you?" Sophia asked. "I knew it... you knew exactly what to say and do. For these past few days Emma's been unable to get a word in edgewise and I haven't been able to find you alone even once. There's... you're a parahuman."

Sophia reported to her masters. Sophia kept quiet. Sophia had the information tortured out of her. Sophia spoke to a grinning blonde. Sophia slapped a smug redhead.

"A precog, aren't you?" Sophia said. "Not good enough to see this conversation coming huh."

Sophia's eyes narrowed as she glared at Taylor.

Her mouth opened-

Taylor's arms wrapped around her, pinning her arms into place. "I'm glad you found a friend in Emma, and I hope you two are happy together."

"The fuck-"

Squeezing a bit tighter, Taylor got close to Sophia's ear. "She's a bit fragile, look after her, ok?"

When she pulled back, Taylor offered her a beatific, although slightly strained, smile, and Sophia took a step back.

* * *

"I would really like it if you could... not do that?"

Graham Norris, no relation to the TV and movie star, was not a very nice man. He was in fact, a very not nice man. He considered himself a hardcore badass. Sure he had a bit of a beer gut but he spent plenty of time in the gym and it showed. His muscles were big, bigger than most, and he was very tall. With his big beard and shaved head, he cut an imposing, terrifying figure for most people in the city.

The tattoos were almost an after thought, though he still wore a sleeveless muscle shirt to show them off, along the body he was proud of.

"Shaddup ya stupid cunt, this ain't none of your business, walk away!" he barked at the-

He turned around and noticed that the girl talking to him was... a thin, though tall, teenager. She wore what appeared to be a crudely fashioned black cloak, and a simple black bandana, balaclava and sunglasses combo. The blue jeans that poked from below the cloak and the sneakers on her feet clashed with the rest of the image.

But still...

"Y'think playing at bein' a cape's smart in dis city girl," he growled, "Fuck off!"

She took a step in his direction, and he let the woman in his hands fall to the floor. She was entirely too scared to walk away.

He decided if she wanted to play at being a cape, he'd treat her as such, and so he threw the first punch, but he was half drunk and his swing was inexpert. He wasn't a trained fighter in the first place and had needed instruction to learn how to form a proper fist. She tilted her body slightly to the right, and his cross went sailing past her.

"What the-"

He grunted and drew back, throwing another punch, telegraphed and obvious, a right hook this time, sloppy, as if he was trying to use his own arm as a club.

She leaned back, this time, and his punch didn't connect.

As he drew back to try another punch she hit him with her palm, right on his nose, knocking him on his ass with a broken nose.

He tried to curse but couldn't breathe properly and choked on the blood and phlegm that suddenly filled his mouth.

The last thing he knew was when her hand landed on his shoulder.

* * *

It was... an interesting experience, Taylor mused.

She walked into the alley and saw Graham Norris shaking a woman on an alley. She was a prostitute. A black prostitute, being manhandled and brutalized by a member of the Empire.

Taylor straightened and followed the script as best as she could.

* * *

Anger. Hate. Lust.

"They're criminals!" the blonde insisted.

Pride. Arrogance. Anger.

"They deserved this and so much more!" she added, stomping her foot hard enough to leave an imprint.

Admiration. Anger. Hate. Lust. Arrogance. Disdain.

"Vicky, you don't need to-"

"Look, Ames, I don't care if it's a new hero, I-"

Taylor cast her eyes down. "It's not right," she said, softly.

"Buwha?" the blonde blinked. 'Vicky' continued. "What are you talking about?"

"It's not right," Taylor said, a bit more firmly. "What does hurting them achieve?"

"They get to suffer a little for all the bad they do, it's tit for tat, quid pro quo or whatever," Vicky... Glory Girl, said, tone brooking no argument, as if it was a basic and truthful fact of the universe.

"Two wrongs don't make a right," Taylor said, shaking her head. "An eye for an eye makes the world go blind," she said. "Leave them broken, beaten, battered, and you breed resentment, anger. You are achieving nothing but breeding hate."

She snorted, an unladylike sound erupting from deep within, as if she was having the most authentic funny moment she'd had in a very long time. "Please spare me the Saturday Morning spiel ok," she said. "I've had enough people try to tell me about how I should be the better person, how I should be the one who has restraint in the face of evil or whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. "But this is the real world, girl, the bad guys aren't just going to go away forever once they're put behind bars. They'll be out by tonight, and they'll be back to doing more of the same. This? This is making a difference. So maybe I can't stop every criminal in the city, but these shits? They're definitely gonna think twice before randomly attacking someone in the streets again just because they have a different skin color."

Taylor sighed. "You're wrong, you know."

Glory Girl snorted again. "How? Tell me how I'm wrong, miss Newbie Hero."

"Fear has never worked," Taylor said, simply. "There's three types of criminals. The passionate, the stupid and the professional," she explained. "These three? They are professional criminals. They make a living out of this. They are thugs for a living. You think they didn't know they could find themselves on the other side of your fist one day?" Taylor challenged.

The blonde seemed intrigued.

"The passionate commit crimes in the heat of the moment, they lose control of themselves. They're not afraid of the consequences of their actions, when they do them, they aren't thinking straight in the first place," Taylor explained. "The stupid commit crimes because they are too dumb to think about the consequences of their actions. Fear will never deter them because they're either stupid enough to think they'll get away with it or not intelligent enough to consider the consequences of their actions."

She gestured to the three on the ground. "Like I said, you can't scare these people and make them cower into their homes, never to darken Brockton Bay again. Whether it be because they're desperate for the money or are simply angry misanthropes, all you'll achieve is give them more people to hate."

"Then what do you propose we do? They'll be out by tomorrow if I just drop them off for the police to find them, even if a witness presses charges."

Taylor closed her eyes. "I see your point, and I wouldn't pretend I know how we could fix it. But I know how we can make a difference. Stay your hand tonight. Subdue them. Capture them. Ziptie them in an unusual and funny position to embarrass them. But..."

Taylor looked at the woman who was being comforted by Glory Girl's sister while the heroine debated her.

"Tonight... let's not give them the honor, the reward, of being the center of your attention. How about tonight we make it all about the victim instead? Let's make a difference tonight by protecting what they attempted to break, instead of breaking them in return."

Glory Girl smiled. "You know... you got a point. I got so focused on these bozos that I kinda forgot all about the victim... You're a cool gal. Uh... You got a name for me?"

Taylor seemed pensive. Then she smiled. "Just call me Walker."

* * *

...

I don't know how clear this one is, but... if you need the explanation, here it goes:

Taylor getting Simurgh-y powers is not uncommon. Telekinesis is hella cool after all.

I decided to try to make it a bit more fun tho. So Taylor is basically the "Cauldron Knockoff" version of the Simurgh. She gets the telekinesis, the ability to read minds and the pre and post cognition. She even gets to keep current time cognition as well! All of them with downsides, naturally, which I think I portrayed somewhat. No control over her visions of the future, telekinesis difficult to use and mind-reading turned on 24/7 so she's constantly getting blasted with everyone's feelings all the time.

Anyway, this is just the beginning of the story, and it would involve stuff like Sophia developing from her stock bully persona while she tries to deal with the perceived threat towards Emma that Taylor represents.

(For the record, endgame plan for this one would be to have Taylor murder Eidolon and then the suddenly purposeless Endbringers would be weaponized to kill Scion, with what amounts to a last ditch effort between Contessa and the Simurgh using every other Endbringer as a meatshield while they hit Scion with the Sting)


	40. Cosmic Producer

**Cosmic Producer**

* * *

Summary: A tale of explosions, friendship and magical girl yuribait. Or: Girls Pretend To Be Straight

* * *

Taylor Hebert was, for lack of a better term, Director Piggot's favorite cape ever.

She also had a second title. Glenn Chambers' favorite cape ever.

She was a Tinker and Thinker, but she was a bit of an odd duck. Unlike Armsmaster and Kid Win, she had never made a single object for her own personal use, and her stuff never broke down or had to be replaced. She could not claim to be able to make anywhere near as much stuff as either of them could, and her flashes of inspiration were short lived, unable to carry her through the creation of her objects.

Her output was slower than either of theirs.

Even worse, the materials she needed tended to be on the extremely expensive side, as she needed gemstones of all sorts. She also couldn't really collaborate with either of them, as neither could figure out how to use the esoteric energy that she harnessed to make her creations.

A shaker effect, they said, that she was only able to utilize when Tinkering, which didn't merit her a Shaker rating above 0.

You might be asking, why she was such a well liked cape by her superiors, especially by one who disliked capes in general.

Well, for Piggot, the answer was easy. Taylor had taken over Aegis' duties as Leader of the Wards, despite being amongst the younger half of the group, and for a good reason - she had a head for organization and administration that some bemoaned would never be utilized properly, as she could not work for the PRT due to her status as a parahuman. In her cover job as Director Piggot's assistant, she had already sorted out the grand majortiy of the woman's outstanding paperwork, organized her schedule, and even worked out patrol schedules for the PRT and Protectorate that had reduced stress and increased productivity.

Needless to say, people were rooting for her after she had proven just how good she was at it.

And as for Glenn... well, it came down to one simple fact.

Taylor might arguably be the single most amazing win that the PR department of the Protectorate, and especially ENE, had ever made.

Because Taylor's power was all completely focused on the production, management and care of magical girl warriors.

* * *

Magical Vista was, well, sometimes deeply embarrased by the frilly outfit, the silly diamond tipped wand or the unabashed adoration of young girls she received. As in, younger than her.

However, as she sat on a pile of Undersiders, she reckoned, maybe it was completely worth it to put up with Prisma Cosmos' bullshit if it meant she could have this power boost for longer. It was a prototype unit, but as her partner Aegis caught up with her, Vista knew she would never give it up. Even PR was delighted with her ability to fight by shooting green lasers of friendship and absolute devastation, in Taylor's own words.

* * *

Sophia Hess had once been Shadow Stalker. She was now Shadow Caster. More importantly, she had once been in denial, and yet now she was holding hands with Emma, as they went into the cinema.

The health care and hygiene department of the PRT had discovered that getting blown up by a Magical Girl's spells had positive effect on people's sanity, and tended towards helping damaged minds recover. They discovered this when Shadow Stalker recovered from her various mental traumas and began to become disgusted by how much of a bitch she was after Vista finally lost her patience with the surly cape and just blew her the fuck up.

After many more explosions, she broke down, cried and hugged Taylor thanking her for the clarity that being hit by Vista's Friendship Blaster of Doom had brought her, then went to Emma's house, convinced her to get Magical Girl Therapy, and now things were solved in an overly convenient fashion. Not that anybody was complaining, let alone the two lovebirds that still insisted they were totally straight even as they made out in a dark movie theater.

* * *

Vista laughed as Lung turned tail and ran.

He alone had been smart enough to do so, as all his people tried to shoot her, only for the bullets to bounce off her magical protection vest.

Even the one that hit her in the eye just... bounced off, like it'd hit a metal wall. Prisma Cosmos' stuff was seriously overpowered, but unfortunately didn't work too far from her location, a couple dozen kilometers around her at most.

Good enough to take out the violent hoodlums of Brockton Bay though.

As her skirt fluttered in the wind, Vista just wished it didn't involve so many pantyshots though. Magical Girls were hecking perverts, she mused.

* * *

Taylor smiled and gave her newest recruit a thumbs up.

Magical Girl Eidolon-tan twirled her wand and struck an incredibly silly pose. "I am Magical Girl Eidolon-tan, In the name of the Protectorate, I will bring you to justice!" she shouted, changing her pose to a cross between cute and silly, and as soon as she finished, the wall behind her changed to a backdrop of the Protectorate's logo shining in a starlit night sky.

"This disturbs me deeply," Alexandria said.

"The fact that he was so desperate to regain his power that he let himself get turned into a girl to achieve it?" Legend asked.

"No, it's that he's so good at it!"


	41. Astilleros

**Astilleros**

* * *

Summary: In which Daniel Hebert isn't a spineless marmot, and is instead a well liked and respected leader amongst the Dockworker's Union.

* * *

When Alan threatened to financially ruin his once friend Danny and the man's daughter over his own daughter's actions, he knew he was burning a friendship of years. But he did it, and he knew he would do it again on a heartbeat.

He might not be a very good parent, but he did love his daughters, and would do anything for them. Almost too sad that he didn't know that punishing Emma to prevent her from becoming the monster she had become would've been far better than protecting her from the consequences of her actions.

But even sadder than that, however, was that he had acted recklessly.

Part of him knew his threats meant nothing. Danny would win. Certainly, until that time, the Heberts would be in financial ruin, but when that time came, Alan would no longer be able to practice law, he would likely lose most of his savings if not all of them, might even lose his car, his house, or what have you.

What he had done was very illegal and Alan knew it had only worked because Danny was a spineless potato - part of Alan felt justified in steamrolling someone like that.

Still, he looked at himself in the mirror. His teeth were brushed. His tie was straight. His suit was impeccable.

Time for the day to begin.

* * *

The first problem came when his car was not where it should have been.

It took him a moment to realize it had been stolen, and the moment he raised his cellphone to call the firm to inform them why he would be late, everything went black, his phone was snatched out of his hand, and he heard a loud squeal as a car pulled up.

He tried to scream but he was stuck rather harshly and his head swam for a moment. By the time he got his bearings he had been gagged and two men were holding him in place while a third tied his wrists together. Only a moment later he was shoved into the back of a car, he surmised, and then they were moving.

* * *

Alan had a moment's respite as they walked him to a chair, somewhere - he didn't know where they had gone.

Moments later the bag over his head was removed, and he now saw he was in a warehouse full of old wooden crates, some rotting and emptied, others still sealed and full.

"Alan, Alan, Alan," he heard a now familiar voice speak, "you really fucked up this time, huh?"

It was one of Danny's friends. Kurt... something. Alan had met the large dockworker many times in barbeques and parties and such, as he was Danny's close friend and their family had been invited to Dockworker related celebrations many times.

The man had to crouch slightly to look Alan in the eye, seated and tied to a chair as he was. "Or would you prefer 'Mr. Barnes'?" he said, mockingly.

Alan prickled up, knowing that he was being mocked for his attitude. He had never really felt at home amongst the working class, ignoring the fact that he too came from that same background. He tried to speak up but found he was still gagged.

"Yeah, no one here wants to hear whatever comes out of your front asshole," Kurt said, to a few snickers. "Instead, you're gonna listen, and you're gonna listen good. We ain't got no patience, y'see," he said, his tone as nasty as the man's scraggly, unshaven beard.

Alan glared at him.

"Woah there, he thinks he's scary!" they all laughed. "Now, you done goofed, boy," Kurt said. "You thought you could fuck with one of our own, and you thought you could fuck with Danny of all people, and you really thought we wouldn't do anything about it?" Kurt asked, his tone seemingly puzzled.

He reached forward and tapped Alan's forehead.

"Stupid, Mr. Barnes," he said with a smile. "Now, Danny is a good man," he said, "and he asked us not to be too rough. You know how it goes with these things. If it was up to me you'd be sleeping with the fishes, but that was how Marquis did things, not Danny," he said.

Alan realized, right then and there, the true gravity of the situation.

He wasn't amongst law abiding citizens, he knew that, but he had not expected - it was weird, how had he never noticed?

"Surprised are ya? Well nobody accused you of being smart I s'ppose," Kurt said, laughing. "Really, how people never noticed that Marquis stayed away from the docks is beyond me," he said, stretching a little. "Anyway, we're here to have a little chat, and maybe impress upon you a few teeny tiny details you might've missed."

Alan spoke, but it was muffled.

Kurt snickered. "You know, we all know Taylor. Danny used to bring her 'round to the office when she was about yae high," he said, gesturing to the lowest height he could go, as he was a fairly tall man, looking gigantic to Alan currently. "Girl was a motormouth but you know kids," he said. "We heard about what happened at school Alan."

Alan froze.

"And we're not happy."

It was redundant, Alan already knew that.

"In case you're wondering where your car is, don't bother looking for it, it's at the bottom of the bay," Kurt said. "I just want you to know that every scrape, bruise or harsh word your spawn has ever visited upon Taylor? Well, call me the IRS because I'm here to collect the tax."

Alan saw the man grin. He drew back and stretched his arms.

"And oh boy, this looks like it's gonna be one long and arduous tax season!"

* * *

The next time Taylor came to school after the meeting with Blackwell and the terrible trio's parents, it was almost a world of difference.

Blackwell had resigned. So had several teachers. It'd been two weeks since, but it was amazing how much could change, just from a news story about the corruption in Winslow. How much damage it could make to the career of so many people.

Sophia was gone. Apparently she was off to Juvie - rumor went that she was on probation for something or other. Taylor wouldn't be surprised to know she crucified puppies in her spare time.

Madison had been transferred out as her parents had moved out of the city, trying to escape the reputation of their daughter the attempted murderer.

But the greatest change was the social pariah, Emma Barnes. Her reputation was destroyed. Her burgeoning career as a model was destroyed. It seemed that 'Uncle Alan' had apparently calmed down from being in 'defend your daughter to the death' mode and had laid down the law, he'd even come to apologize to Taylor in person, dropping to his knees and begging forgiveness for his actions.

Taylor had even talked with 'aunt' Zoe and Emma's sister Anne, both of whom were completely uninformed of the events, both of whom had apologized profusely for never noticing anything was wrong with Emma.

Now that she was known to be mentally ill, without support from her ferocious attack dog, without having all the latest fashion and accessories, Emma had turned from being Queen Bully to being the outcast everyone bullied, where it had once been Taylor instead.

It just so happened to be that she was a redhead, from a Jewish family, in Brockton Bay, in a school were gang allegiations were plainly seen. Nobody wanted her, now that she had lost everything but her good looks.

And as for Taylor?

Well, her situation was only different in that she wasn't actively the target for bullying anymore. People steered clear when they learned that she had been one of the few who had ever succeeded in the mythical feat of attempting to exercise change on Winslow.

And that suited her just fine. After all... School was just a distraction from the thriving business she had as a pest eliminator and part time hero.

She was really glad she had actually talked with her father about her powers. It was amazing how many opportunities there were to make money for her. Between selling spidersilk, weaving the odd outfit here and there, cleaning out pest infestations of all sorts and sometimes running an odd job or two, the Hebert family was certainly seeing an upswing in their future.

As classes started, she more or less ignored the lesson - it was simply more preparation for an exam she wasn't going to take in the first place - and focused instead on the design she was working on.

It was her first contract with the heroes, and she didn't want to mess it up!


End file.
